Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Opting to keep on his jeans, albeit unbuttoned, he removed his shirt and boots. After perusing Cayson’s bookshelf, his CD collection, and his DVDs, Quick made a few mental notes of what Cayson liked. He also made a note to tease him about the Lady Gaga CD he found way down on the bottom rack.
Quick shook his head. He had a warm feeling in his gut that he and Cayson could possibly have something. That is, if the doctor didn’t think him too much a roughneck. He may not be as educated and refined, but he was an honest, successful business owner. Surely, that gave him some bonus points.
He was thinking of where he’d take Cayson on their second date when Quick heard a faint noise – sounded like right outside the window – and went to look out the blinds. The view was a mess. Well let’s rephrase. If you are keeping a lookout, the view was a mess. Large trees lined the sidewalk, and Cayson’s neighbor really needed to prune back her bushes. He could barely see if someone was approaching, they’d practically be right in front of the house before he spotted them. He bet Cayson had a good view from one of his bedroom windows, but Quick had made himself a promise. He wasn’t going up until he was beckoned.
His eyes scanned back and forth over Cayson’s front yard. He clenched his teeth, wondering if Cayson ever gave that bum a key to his place. He hoped not. Parting the blinds a tad further, he looked as far as he could, but he didn’t see anything, more accurately: anyone. He’d stay on high alert, regardless. I hope you come back, motherfucker. I’ll show you a damn thug. Quick recounted the feud again for the hundredth time. Problem was he’d heard every nasty word that prick called him, and if he hadn’t been trying to impress his distinguished date, he would’ve put Joe on his self-important ass.
After determining that the noises he’d heard must’ve been an animal, Quick checked the clip in one of his all-black 9mm handguns and tucked it under the couch cushion where he’d laid his head. He checked his watch. It was going on eleven. Still early, so he stretched out, linking his fingers and tucking them behind his head. All that bulk and muscle looked comical on the standard length couch.
Quick closed his eyes and thought about Cayson. Usually at this hour – if he wasn’t working – he’d be on his patio, sipping a brew and trying to relax. He imagined Cayson reclining between his legs on his outdoor chaise lounge after they’d both had a long day. Quick could see himself burying his nose in Cayson’s neck and murmuring sweet words of encouragement while his lover told him all about his stressful day. He wondered if they could be together, find something special between them, like his best friend had found. Wondered if he’d found the one who would make his heart soar. Duke was the happiest guy he knew, now. But a year ago, he was as big a mess as Quick. Wanting a friend, a lover, and a partner. Quick wanted it all. He wanted it with his sexy surgeon, who in his opinion had single-handedly saved his son’s and best friend’s lives. And the man was gorgeous.
Beautiful blond-brown hair with a few sprinkled grays along the edges. Quick had more grays than the doc, but his was long and usually pulled back at his neck. Clearly, Cayson was a man who took care of himself, because his body had very little fat on it. He wasn’t packed with muscle, but his toned frame was a big turn-on for Quick. But, nothing did it for him more than when Cayson was in his white lab coat wearing his nerdy, gold wire-rimmed reading glasses. Quick closed his eyes and relived their first date to keep himself from drifting off to sleep too fast. Cayson was in such an affluent neighborhood, Quick didn’t hear any police sirens, helicopters or any other big city noises. Behind his closed lids, Quick pictured their kiss, their hug, pictured the way Cayson had hung on to him, like he’d shatter if Quick let him go. He most definitely wasn’t leaving. It’d been years since Quick felt this alive. Cayson stirred feelings deep down inside of him, feelings which he’d thought had been suppressed too long to arise again.
The time crept by, but Quick used it to think and brainstorm. He knew how to devise a plan. He’d need one to deal with Dr. Joe, especially since he couldn’t move in to protect Cayson.
While he thought, his eyelids dropped lower and lower.
Cayson
Cayson was deeply asleep, finally getting the much-needed rest he’d been seeking, when a sharp knock made him bolt upright, scaring the shit out of him. It took only a second for him to gather himself when another knock fell and was forceful enough to rattle the few pieces of art Cayson had on the walls downstairs. What the damn hell?