Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Now I wasn’t sure about any of it. The closer Lane came, the more I saw. He was tired and had probably not gotten enough sleep, and that made me wanna give up on the whole act. He evidently knew I had dominance in me already, and he also knew I was up to the task of being a good partner for him.
“Hey, you.” I straightened and gestured for him to head into my office.
“Hi, Sir.”
I followed him in there and closed the door.
“Cool place you’ve got here.” He put some effort into his tired grin and extended my energy refill.
“Thank you.” I took a sip of the coffee and—fuck, it was really good. I didn’t recognize the logo, so he must’ve picked a place I’d never been to. In the little pastry bag, I found a mini donut with cinnamon sugar and a mini…they were called cronuts, I was fairly sure.
“I know you don’t have much of a sweet tooth, so I went with a semisweet, dark chocolate filling.”
The boy knew me.
“That sounds perfect.” It was true. It wasn’t often I craved anything sweet, but I did like dark chocolate, preferably paired with Poire Williams, and I liked cinnamon as well. But I’d save them for later. After leaving the donuts next to my computer, I leaned back against the edge of the desk and pondered my options.
Lane eyed three photos of the F-22 Raptor I’d hung up over my couch, the only piece of furniture I had aside from what I needed for work. But every now and then, a nap made all the difference.
“That’s the fighter jet you worked on, right?”
I inclined my head. “Primarily.”
He nodded slowly and seemed to fix his gaze anywhere except on me.
He took off his jacket slowly and draped it over the armrest of the couch.
“You okay, darlin’?”
He fired a quick smirk, but it was too forced. “Don’t ask me that.” A beat later, his eyes welled up, and he looked away again.
I didn’t know what to fucking do. I didn’t understand why this had to be so difficult. It pained me to see him torture himself that way—and it fucked with my head because he didn’t strike me as someone who put himself down for kicks. He was so strong and confident in other ventures in his life.
Had someone pushed him to close himself off? Had he been hurt? Had someone he’d loved shown too little patience about his mental health issues?
Back in my day, these conditions hadn’t had names. And I wasn’t that old. I just thought…while we had a ways to go in the awareness department, we’d still made incredible strides in the past ten, fifteen years. ADHD wasn’t a rare disorder nobody had heard of anymore.
“Get over here, Lane.” I took another swig of my coffee before I set it down on the desk.
He shuffled closer with reluctance rolling off him. I didn’t care. The second he was within reach, I grabbed him by his shirt and hauled him in for a tight hug. I finally got my arms around him good and proper, and I pressed my lips to the side of his head.
He sniffled and hugged my midsection loosely.
Needing to feel more of him, I dipped down and buried my face against his neck, where I breathed him in. It was insane how rejuvenating a damn hug could be, and I wasn’t letting go until I’d gotten my fill. I lowered my arms and slipped them under his, so I let my hands roam his back.
He shuddered, carefully locking his arms around my neck.
Much better.
I squeezed him hard, feeling his muscles underneath my hands, and inhaled deeply through my nose. Fuck, but he smelled so damn good.
A dark hunger grew within me, knocking down my filters.
“I miss you.” Memories from all the nights we’d spent together on the boat came rushing at me. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.” We’d fucked like animals. Always clawing and grabbing and rubbing. He’d been so eager too. Eager to take my cock, eager to change positions and let me toss him around like a rag doll.
He gasped and pressed himself against me as I let my instincts take over. I sucked on his neck, I slipped my hand under his shirt, craving skin-to-skin, I grazed my teeth over his soft flesh, and I dragged my fingers along his spine.
God-fucking-dammit, if I didn’t slow my roll, I’d have him bent over the desk in two minutes.
My cock strained against the zipper in my jeans, and I knew he could feel it. I felt him too. He’d surrender to me. I had zero fucking doubt. He could resist me about as much as I could resist him. But then what? He’d walk out, shaken, after a quick fuck?
I wasn’t settling for anything less than all of him.