Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Okay, Daddy. We can meet for coffee. You free today?”
“I’m free until five. Then I have to get to work.”
“So if we do decide to trick out then we’re going to have to make it real quick, aren’t we?”
“We’re not—”
“I’m kidding. Relax. So let’s meet at…say, two thirty?” I ask. “Is that enough time for you?”
“That works.”
“Perfect. I’ll be wearing that jock strap.”
He starts to speak, but I sing out, “Bye!” before hanging up.
5
Jackson
This is likely a huge mistake. It’s obvious Derek and I are complete opposites. Even if we weren’t, I have too much shit going on in my life, too many goddamn responsibilities to worry about that are more important than asking anyone out for coffee.
He’s probably right about us. I should just take him to my apartment and pound his little hole so we can both get it out of our systems and move on. It would be easy. I wouldn’t have to use the fucking app that just makes me feel old and out of touch or hit up bars and clubs and play the whole game because games aren’t really my thing.
Derek wants it, and so do I.
Derek would be easy.
But that’s what holds me back. The fact that it would be so easy, I’d wonder if he really wanted it. Or if like the night I met him, he’d be doing it to cover up whatever else is going on in his life or because I was nice to him.
When I bed a man, I want it to be because I know he wants my cock and not anything else.
And, I also can’t stop thinking about seeing him at the assisted living facility.
It wasn’t the man I took home with me and who has me curious as fuck.
Goddamn little hurricane wreaking havoc on my life.
Shoving off the couch, I make my way into the bathroom. Once in the shower, I immediately wrap my hand around my dick because I’m horny as fuck and Derek put all these thoughts of him in a pink jockstrap in my mind. It’s not where I’m supposed to be going when it comes to the kid, but Christ, he’s fucking sexy and I really want a piece of his ass.
My balls draw up and my eyes roll back right before I blow my load all over the shower wall, releasing only a fraction of the pent-up tension in my body.
Why did I think coffee was a good idea, again?
Because somehow, some way that I don’t understand and likely makes zero fucking sense, I almost feel like I saw something familiar in Derek’s eyes. Something I see in my own.
“I’m losing my goddamn mind,” I mumble to myself before washing up. I put on a pair of jeans and a black tee before stuffing my work clothes into a duffle bag. After brushing my teeth, I call it a fucking day.
Shoes, socks, work stuff, cell, and I’m out the door before I come to my senses and call this shit off.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the coffeehouse Derek chose. When I step inside, I see Derek standing at the counter with his back to me. It looks like he has his arms crossed in front of him. He’s a good few inches shorter than me—small-boned where I’m definitely not. He looks young, a whole lot younger than me, even though I know the age difference isn’t quite what it would seem.
He’s wearing a pair of tight jeans that sculpt his firm little ass, and a tee that’s bunched up on one hip so I can see a hint of pink.
Jesus, he’s fucking bad. There’s no doubt he’s trying to tempt me, and even though it shouldn’t, it makes a small smile tug at my lips, and just like that, all my trepidation starts to melt away.
I step up beside him, cross my arms and say, “You’re testing my patience.”
“What? Me?” He feigns innocence. “What did I do? Don’t blame me because you want my ass.”
I look down at him, and he licks his lips. Little fucker. I’ve never known anyone like him before. He’s so out of my wheelhouse I almost don’t know how to respond to him sometimes, which I don’t like. “What do you want?” I ask.
“Anything. Like I said before, I can blow you. I’d rather take your cock but—”
“Not that. Jesus, what am I going to do with you?” I rub my fingers over my beard, feeling a little flustered.
“Didn’t I just answer that question?”
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath, knowing it’s going to take everything in me not to bend him over and have a go at him. “You like that sweet shit, right? Caramel latte it is.”
“Hey! I didn’t say I wanted a caramel latte.”
“No, you said you wanted to blow me. I don’t think they sell that here.” Just as I finish speaking, the person ahead of us steps away from the counter. “Medium coffee black and a caramel latte.”