Only for the Weekend Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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We were both breathing heavily. I dropped my head back, the setting sun in my eyes, naked as the day I was born…and laughed. He probably thought I was crazy, and maybe I was, but I felt so damn good, I couldn’t contain it. “Holy shit, that was awesome. This is the best job I ever had,” I joked, hoping to make Emerson chuckle. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

He didn’t respond, though, not really. Just stood up, held his hand out for me, and I took it. He tugged me to my feet, his cum now on his palm. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll use the one in my room. You can use the one in the hallway. There are towels in the linen closet. I’ll get dinner going afterward.”

Without another word, he headed into the house, leaving me there alone.

CHAPTER NINE

Emerson

I couldn’t stop shaking.

I hadn’t expected this reaction, that I’d both crave physical release and hate myself for it. Or maybe I had, and I just liked having another reason to dislike myself. And the icing on the cake? I felt like shit about how I’d left Sam standing naked in my yard after we’d come together.

But all I could think of was how I hadn’t been able to be who Daniel had needed. I’d hurt someone I cared about, and then he’d died painfully, upset with me, while I’d passed out and slept, unaware of what was happening in the next room. That Daniel would never get to be with anyone again, and yet I’d just come my brains out with a beautiful, sweet man who had no business being here with me.

I closed and locked my door behind me. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if I thought Sam would force his way into my bedroom. Still, I didn’t unlock it. As soon as I got into my en suite, I turned on the water. Sweat and dirt clung to my body as I stripped out of my clothes.

Despite the heat, I kept the water as hot as I could handle it, using a sponge to scrub my legs, stomach, and chest. When I got to my hands, the soap turned red. Bubbles of blood covered them. No matter how much I cleaned myself, more spread all over me, dripping onto the tiles, working its way up my arms.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.

When I tried to close my eyes, it was Daniel I saw. Daniel in the bed we’d shared. Daniel bleeding. Daniel’s vacant eyes staring back at me. Had he wished I was there? Had he thought of me at all when the life was draining out of him? Had he known I’d cared for him even if I’d been shit at showing it?

Why, Bent? Why did you kill me?

Stop!

I shut down, found that button inside myself that allowed me to feel, and turned it off. Once I’d washed my hair and rinsed off, I got out, brushed my teeth, and put on underwear and a pair of jeans. I must have been in the shower longer than I realized because when I came out, Sam was already there, wet-haired and clean in a pair of shorts and a tank top. He was sitting on the couch, phone in hand, typing away.

“Had to text Molly so she knows I’m not dead. She’s worried you’re a psycho murderer.” I fought not to wince at the joke, turning for the kitchen. I knew without looking that Sam was behind me. “I put my bag in the spare room.”

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna be this entertaining all weekend?”

Don’t smile, don’t smile, don’t smile. “The orgasm I gave you wasn’t enough?”

“Nope. That was awesome. Best blowjob I ever had. That just means you have high standards to keep up with. If you can suck cock that well, you should be able to hold an interestin’ conversation.”

I stopped, turned, and looked at him. Who was this guy? He surprised me often, and that wasn’t something most people did. He shook me up in ways I couldn’t explain, and while I knew I should walk away from him, I couldn’t. “I apologize if I bore you.”

He grinned. “It’s all right. We can work on it.”

Sam smelled like my soap and some kind of deodorant. I noticed again the muscles in his arms, the slight growth of stubble on his face that he didn’t typically keep there. Even though it sent me in a tailspin the first time, the truth was, I already wanted him again.

“Do you like stir-fry?” I asked, rather than responding.

“I like fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, with okra on the side.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Eh, it’s okay. I’ll make a good home-cooked meal for you next time. And I was givin’ you shit. Not sure there’s a thing I won’t eat. I love food. My mama always said I’d eat us out of the house if she let me.”


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