Mr. Important (Honeybridge #2) Read Online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Honeybridge Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
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His eyes opened wide, the whites visible in the darkness. “Yeah?”

I wasn’t quite sure if it was agreement or a question, but I nodded and nipped his jaw and throat. “You’re so fucking sexy. I want you every minute of every fucking day. Can’t fucking keep my hands off you one minute more.”

His lips turned up, and his hands reached for the back of my head, drawing my face back up to kiss him on the mouth again. “Tell me,” he begged against my lips.

I hesitated. Reagan’s fingers tightened in my hair. “I…”

“Don’t you dare say you shouldn’t,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare tell me you’ll regret this tomorrow.”

“No. Never.”

He let out a cry as I pounded into him harder. His head went back, and I took the opportunity to suck on his Adam’s apple while reaching down to stroke his cock. I was close, so close, and I needed him to come before I lost control.

Reagan’s words came out between gasping breaths. “Tell me this won’t be the last time. I can’t… I don’t…”

“Not the last. I can’t stay away from you anymore.” Even if I knew better, even if it was the wrong thing to do, I knew there was no way this could possibly be the last time I’d feel this way with Reagan Wellbridge.

He exhaled before sucking in another breath. “Fuck. Gonna come.”

The words choked out in his broken breath were all it took to trigger my own release. Hot fluid hit my hand as white stars exploded in my head. I released deep inside of him while the sounds of his own cries filled the space around us.

After a few moments, I reluctantly pulled out of him and moved my weight over to lie beside him, keeping a hand on his heaving chest to feel the rapid thump of his heart. Reagan covered my hand with his to hold it there.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he said softly but defiantly.

“Yes.”

“And I’m staying here tomorrow night, too.”

“Yes,” I answered before remembering a slight problem with that plan. “But Layla⁠—”

Reagan turned and slapped a hand over my mouth. “Ew. We are not talking about Layla. Not in this room. Don’t ruin my glow.”

I huffed out a laugh against his warm hand before kissing his palm. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, relaxing back onto the pillow. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” I repeated. It was a word I imagined saying to him over and over again if given the chance.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Now, be a good boy and fetch me a washcloth or something. I have spunk all over me, and it’s mostly your fault.”

I snorted. I enjoyed his prickles, his teasing nearly as much as I liked it when he showed me glimpses of the vulnerability beneath. Knowing him well enough to see his various defense mechanisms felt like a gift. One I wanted to enjoy for as long as I could.

I got up and went to the tiny bathroom to do as he asked. When I came back and began to clean him up myself, he seemed surprised. The light from the bathroom illuminated his expression.

“Gimme the cloth. I can do that.”

“Obviously.” I happily continued my task. “You’re very capable.”

He grumbled but allowed me to care for him. When I was finished. I returned the cloth to the bathroom and turned off the light before sliding into bed next to him and pulling the covers over us. Reagan snuggled up against me unapologetically. I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him even closer.

After a few minutes of silence, his voice sounded sleepy but firm. “Don’t change your mind.”

I hesitated before responding. “Reagan…”

His voice was less sleepy this time. More firm. “Not kidding, Thatcher. You, me… this is good, right? And I’m tired of fighting how much I want you. So don’t fucking change your mind.”

“It is good. And I want you, too.” Part of me wanted to leave it at that, to enjoy our time together and let things happen naturally, but I owed him the truth. “But I’m also a realist. All the reasons we’ve been fighting it are still there—” I didn’t need to spell them out.

“Just for this trip, then,” he said quickly. “We can be together until we’re back in New York.”

“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “Just for this trip.”

As I fell asleep, my brain continued to tackle the issue, desperately seeking a solution. The trip would be another eight… no, I realized with a pang, seven days. It didn’t feel like enough. But how could it last longer? Openly dating a junior employee wouldn’t be good for either of our reputations. I couldn’t imagine telling Trent that I was dating his son. And my track record with relationships was… well, any tabloid reader could explain in detail why I shouldn’t bother trying for a long-term relationship.


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