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)
I dug my fingernails into his flesh in a silent command to fuck my mouth…now, please.
Unfortunately, Hudson didn’t get the message. He flattened his palm against my forehead and pushed.
“Wh-what’s wrong?”
“Slow down. I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled me to my feet, cupped my chin, and searched my face for clues. “You’ve been sick for a week. Fuck, I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I want sex, Hudson. I’m dying for it. Look at me!” I pointed at my rigid cock, then set my hands on my hips. “You’re responsible for this, and the only polite thing to do is provide aid and…and…release.”
He flashed another one of those lopsided, naughty smiles as he closed his fist around my shaft. I whimpered and moaned, and it only got worse when he stroked me from base to tip…slowly.
“Invite me to your room, Moody.”
“Okay, yes. This way.” I hooked my thumb behind me.
Hudson nibbled my bottom lip and slapped my rear end…hard. “Show me.”
9
HUDSON
Moody’s room could have doubled as an annex to his bookstore. It was filled to the brim with books…on the floor, on the nightstand. Somehow, the controlled chaos and competing colors on bindings made the space seem cozy and inviting. Like its owner.
It was neat and tidy, too. His queen-sized bed was made, the duvet folded to reveal crisp white sheets. There were no discarded clothes lying about, no trash bin filled with used tissues. If I hadn’t seen the mess over the past week, I wouldn’t have known he’d been under the weather.
But I had.
I’d been here every day, playing nurse in some convoluted quest to shimmy my way into Moody’s orbit. The man fascinated the hell out of me. He was sassy and rude one minute and unbearably sweet the next. At first, I’d mistakenly thought he was easy to read. I’d been wrong.
Moody was an extremely intelligent guy who led a simple life in a small town and probably felt a little disconnected and lonely being one of the only out gay men under forty in the area. But he’d given up a lucrative career in law for a level of solitude most people didn’t crave until they were ready to retire.
Was he hiding? Was he doing penance? Was he really going to let me fuck him? Right here, right now?
My head was a jumble of contradictions—noble intentions warring with a very base need to pin him down and devour him. Moody had been sick for a week, and this couldn’t be good for him. But Christ, look at him, wiggling his ass as he shed clothing like a second skin.
I lingered in the doorway, dick out, jeans riding my waist as I watched the show. A T-shirt flew over his shoulder, and his sweats and boxer briefs dropped in a puddle on the floor beside his bed. He opened the nightstand drawer, mumbling what sounded like a prayer.
“Please don’t have an expiration date, please don’t have an expiration date.”
I grinned. This was why I liked him. Moody was guileless. He was incapable of being untrue to himself or anyone else. That didn’t mean he was an open book, but it meant I could trust him. And after a year of wondering why I hadn’t realized my previous relationship was a sham, it was nice to be with someone painfully honest.
Not that this was going anywhere serious. Don’t be ridiculous. This was just…fun. ’Cause sex was fun, and Moody was fun and…did I mention that he was hot as fuck?
“I like my handprint on your ass,” I hummed.
His hand flew to his rear end as he craned his neck to get a glimpse, his cheeks turning pink. “It stings, but I like it too.”
“Good.”
Moody tossed a condom and a bottle of lube to the bed, then fiddled with his glasses. “Uh…so, how do you want me? All fours, on my back, or on top? As previously stated, it’s been a while for me. I trust you know what you’re doing. If you have any reservations, speak now. Otherwise, take your darn clothes off and let’s get to it.”
My lips twitched. “On your knees.”
I pursed my lips in amusement when he scrambled madly to the center of the mattress. Any trace of humor disappeared a moment later at the sight of his pert little ass in the air, cock swaying between his legs. Fuck, I wanted him.
I set my hat at the end of his bed and kicked off my boots, my eyes glued on Moody. I took off my shirt and draped it on the striped chair wedged in the corner in front of a wall of bookshelves before sauntering to the bed. He released a soft sigh of relief as I reached for the lube.
“Thank goodness. I’m ready. No more dillydallying. Please,” he moaned.