Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Yep, I was gobsmacked.
I glanced around the parking lot, looking for witnesses. Was he serious?
Did it matter? My cock was on board. It twitched against my zipper, hopeful for some unexpected action.
But I was the one doing the thinking here, not my dick.
“Moody, that’s—”
“I was joking,” he intercepted with the world’s phoniest laugh. “I’m practically incapable of issuing dastardly invitations. That was my inexpert way of voicing solidarity and quite frankly, amazement that…”
He circled his wrist as if searching his internal data bank for PC terminology.
I took pity on both of us and supplied, “That I got dumped?”
Moody nodded. “Yes.”
“So, let me get this straight…you were flirting with me earlier just for fun, and now you’d rather know why my ex left me.”
“Well…I’m still flirting, but with less voracity. I’ve turned down the heat, you might say.” He pushed at his glasses, chuckling at his joke, quickly adding, “Out of respect. It’s rather in poor taste to seduce a brokenhearted man. Or perhaps not, but it’s not something I’d be good at.”
“It happened a year ago, Moody. I’m fine.”
“Oh, good. That’s excellent.”
We stared at each other for a beat. “You’re still curious, huh?”
“Terribly,” he admitted.
I snorted. “It’s kind of chilly out here. My hotel is up the road. Did you want to come by for a—”
“Glass of water. Yes, please. I’ll follow you.”
And with that, he marched to his SUV.
Okay…I’d either invited a cute guy to my room for a glass of water to discuss a breakup or my dick size. Or both.
This was going to be interesting.
5
MOODY
To be clear, I was not in the habit of initiating sexual encounters. Ever. Not my style.
I was more likely to flirt badly with a man I found attractive and subtly encourage him to do the seducing. For example, I might accidentally bump knees with a stranger at the bar and if he kept his knee in place, I might touch said knee while doing some embarrassing coquettish move that involved fluttering eyelashes and insipid smiles.
Don’t judge. Clichéd maneuvers might seem uninspired and unoriginal, but they worked like a charm. If you lived in robust metropolises, that is.
Sadly, desire and opportunity had not been on the menu lately. I lived in Christmas Town, for Pete’s sake. The pickings were slim to nonexistent.
The last time I’d had sex with an actual human male was—well, I couldn’t remember the exact date, but it had been a while…as in two years or more. I was a horny, horny boy, and the bisexual cowboy who’d showed up out of the blue was like a mirage in a desert. Hudson was a tall glass of cool water, and I was so darn thirsty.
Was this smart? Uncertain.
If Hudson was who he claimed to be—single, emotionally unavailable, and mildly interested in me—who was I to complain? We could discuss his foolish ex and if things went well, he could show me his large cock.
I didn’t know what to think about him potentially moving to the area. But maybe that didn’t matter. The ranch was twenty minutes away from town. There were wineries and rolling hills and swerving, narrow roads in between. Personally, I rarely drove north, so I’d never see him again.
For real, this time.
I parked in the visitor lot, swiped my sweaty palms on my khakis, and fussed with the top button on my blue oxford shirt. Relax.
Easier said than done. I spotted Hudson at the entrance to the hotel lobby, and my heart did its darnedest to jump into my throat.
Geez, he was too handsome.
He hadn’t worn his cowboy hat tonight. His hair was longer and wavier than I’d thought, his eyes were bluer, and his dimples were drop-dead darling. And don’t get me started on his form-fitted black V-neck sweater. Gorgeous.
I highly doubted I was his type, though. I mean…just look at me. I was an unrepentant geek, and Hudson was a stunning masculine beefcake. He’d probably been too shocked by my bold overture to let me down gently. I suspected he was prepared to send me on my merry way after spilling his guts about his ex, then give a brief, “Let’s not ruin a budding friendship with sex” chat.
In fact, that was absolutely what he’d do, and who could blame him?
Not me, that was for darn sure.
I mustered the dregs of my fast-waning courage, pasted a smile on my face, and strode toward the lobby. “Good evening, sir.”
Hudson grinned, all flashing white teeth and crinkling eyes. Super gorgeous.
“Good evening. My room is this way.”
He ushered me through the lobby, passing the elevators and the massive flower arrangement of lilies and roses under a gargantuan crystal chandelier. We walked along a wide corridor with jewel-toned carpet and lit with fancy sconces and entered a separate wing.
Hudson tapped a key card to the panel and opened the door with a flourish. And my jaw dropped.