Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“So noble.” Arthur kissed the back of my neck, exactly like I’d done to him, and I shivered, feeling the brush of his lips all the way down to my cock. “Bet we can’t hear them in the shower.”
“Tempting.” Even as I said it, logic was rushing back in, replacing my lust-addled thoughts. I stood before I could give in to the urge to topple him backward on the bed. “But I mean it. You deserve more than some one-off hookup squeezed in before breakfast.”
“Luckily we have all week.” His laugh was deep and musical and made my stomach quiver with want. His wide grin said he knew damn well that he had me.
“I—”
“Morning kayaking after breakfast! No lazing in bed!” another voice yelled right before the gong sounded again.
“Coming!” I yelled back, loud as I could.
“Not hardly,” Arthur grumbled even as he too scrambled out of bed and started rooting around for clean clothes. “You’re killing me here, Derrick.”
“You’ll live.” My fate, on the other hand, was still hanging in the balance. I wasn’t coming out of this week unscathed, that much was for sure. And there was only so much resisting a guy could do. “If we’re gonna—”
“Oh, we’re going to.” He gave me a look so pointed that my skin heated, and I had to glance away before I launched myself at him, right there on the rug beside the bed.
“Then we need to do it right,” I said firmly. “Later.”
“That better be a promise and not a way of putting me off again.”
My groan that time was the sound of surrender, soft and low and full of want that I could no longer hold back. “It’s a promise.”
Chapter Fourteen
Arthur
My pornographic thoughts were probably not suitable for a family pancake breakfast, but I couldn’t seem to manage to banish them either. Derrick and I had been so close, on so many levels. Close to having sex, close to getting off right there, and close to each other, bodies pressed together, even our breathing in sync. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that I’d never had such a good wakeup, the way Derrick’s lips on the back of my neck had coaxed me awake.
That he probably wouldn’t have made a move had he been fully awake was a minor concern. I’d heard him say my name the night before. He’d been tempted to give in right then, but he’d sounded so pained, and I hadn’t liked the idea of him hating himself in the morning, so I’d feigned sleep. In the morning, though, Derrick had sounded more horny and less wounded, and it was impossible to not press my case, so to speak, with him wrapped around me. He wasn’t the only one struggling to be noble.
Later. He’d said it was a promise, and I hoped to God it was because he wanted it as badly as I did and not because I’d finally worn him down. And now, all I could think about was later, what we might do and how and when and to whom and—
“Please pass the syrup.” Taylor, the oldest and more well-mannered of Ollie’s rambunctious kids, interrupted my decidedly R-rated thoughts.
“Here you go.” I passed Taylor the syrup and managed a smile as well. Derrick and I had ended up at a mixed table of breakfast stragglers—Ingrid, some of the nephews, and a few bleary-eyed male cousins who looked like they’d had a few more beers than prudent after the campfire.
“Mom says you’re in charge of the talent show this year.” Taylor wrinkled his nose.
“Yep.” I nodded. He’d evaded my sign-up sheet the night before with a similar expression, but I wasn’t giving up. “Are you going to do it? You didn’t sign up last night.”
“I don’t have any talent.” He shrugged his bony shoulders and sounded so down that my chest panged.
“Sure you do.”
“Nothing that can win me a prize.” His lower lip jutted out, the sort of stubborn misery I knew only too well. Screw this family’s obsession with winning. I’d do the show, but we were doing this my way.
“Winning isn’t everything.” I didn’t expect my lecture to work, but I also couldn’t stay silent. “Sometimes it’s enough to have fun or make people laugh. No matter what you do, everyone will clap.”
“Because they have to. We’re related.”
Derrick, who had been preoccupied with his pancakes, laughed at that. “Well, I’m going to clap and I’m not a relative.”
“Yet.” Taylor made his voice all ominous, which made me both chuckle and wonder what the current gossip was about me and Derrick. “Mom said—”
“Let’s focus on finding your talent.” No way did I need to scare Derrick off our plan for later by someone mentioning a future that absolutely wasn’t happening. I leaned toward Taylor. “Do you play an instrument? Sing? Dance classes?”