Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
It wasn’t something he could slip into casual conversation. Particularly not when the two of them were so busy with preparations for the dual births of business and babe. Their plates were full enough, so Matthew kept himself preoccupied with his new hobby—blatant ogling.
Legs, focused on his daily workout and whatever music was blasting in his ear buds at all times, never seemed to notice, no matter how obvious the ogling got.
And since the man was choosing to wear that scrap of fabric that pornographically outlined his cock and continuously rode up between the cheeks of his ass, it had gotten pretty damn obvious.
That. Ass.
Matthew had grown up around muscular Irishmen—burly brawlers and bruisers all—but he could honestly say he had never seen a man with an ass like that. It was a luscious, meaty handful that tempted him towards indecency at every turn. He’d spent the majority of his free time imagining all the things he wanted to do to it. The rest of the time he’d spent researching gay porn sites to see if certain positions were even possible.
All that had done was given him more ideas. But at least his left hand was getting one hell of a workout.
“You’d think he lived in the spare room upstairs,” Robert continued, as if Matthew wasn’t distracted by thoughts of a lascivious nature, “but I saw him wrestling with that monster car of his one night while I was locking up. Bronte thinks it belongs to his boyfriend.”
Matthew came to attention and bristled at the word boyfriend. “Monster car?”
“One of those cool cholo-style lowrider beauties I used to want back when I first got my license. Bright blue and loud, with all the bells and whistles. Even has a set of fuzzy dice. That’s a lot of machine for him, and he looked about as out of place as a little old lady behind the steering wheel.” Robert lowered his voice, glancing surreptitiously over at Legs before continuing. “Bronte says a boyfriend borrow is the only logical explanation.”
“And now we all know a little more about Robert than we wanted to.” Rory flipped his hair out of his eyes, leaning back precariously on his stool to study Legs in more detail.
“You’re right, though. He doesn’t look like a pimped-out lowrider. But then he doesn’t look like a boxer either. Sweet is the word that comes to mind. A sweet stripper, with a hint of that Jane Austen meets vampire ponce-itude about him.”
“A sweet, old lady vampire stripper? I never want to know how the two of you describe me.” Matthew pushed his barely touched plate away and bit his tongue before he could say more in defense of his crush.
Not that he’d admit it out loud, but he got where Rory was coming from. Legs had soft sable curls, high cheekbones and wide, deep-set brown eyes that made him look like an angel. An angel that happened to have bow-shaped lips that Matthew wanted to explore for days. He could almost feel them around his cock.
Something he definitely shouldn’t be imagining if he was driving his boyfriend’s car. Unless he was unhappy with the wanker—then all bets were off.
You could solve all your problems if you’d just nut up and talk to the guy.
Matthew sighed. He’d almost done it a half a dozen times, but something always held him back. He felt stuck. Unable to move forward, but unable to leave and risk the possibility of someone else swooping in to steal Legs away from him before he worked up his nerve.
It was hell on his social life. He’d turned down invitations every night so he could continue to put himself through this torture. What kind of masochistic idiot had two thumbs and would rather watch a man hold the plank position for an hour instead of experiencing all the tactile entertainments available at the local kink club?
This guy.
As recently as last week he’d been a club regular. Back when there were all manner of things that flipped his personal switch, instead of just one oblivious man.
Light bondage? He was in. Spanking and role-play? Sign him up. Anal? As long as he was driving, it was, as they said, all good.
It wasn’t a lifestyle choice by any means, but it was always good fun, usually educational and his family didn’t own the club, which was a rare plus. There had been plenty of opportunities to experiment with the men there as well, but he’d never been tempted.
It wasn’t that he had any phobias about having sex with a man. He’d even imagined it once or twice with certain movie stars that had accidentally slipped into his spank bank. But he’d always chalked his arousal up to the taboo nature of it all.
When he’d started getting to know the American side of his family tree, though, he’d wondered if there was something more to it than that. It would be impossible not to, since a majority of his cousins were either bi, gay, poly or some combination thereof.