Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
* * *
Declan: You have my filthy word.
* * *
A minute later, I’m in my room, shorts unzipped, hand in my boxer briefs, stroking my cock as I watch the sexiest video ever.
Grant is a goddamn porn auteur.
Has he done this before? Shot videos of himself? The dragon of envy thrashes inside me again.
But screw jealousy.
This video is mine.
And it is off the chain.
His fist curls nice and tight around his thick cock. He’s all lubed up, slick and hot. One hand slides up and down that fantastic shaft, slow and sexy, gripping the base, then squeezing his way up the head, sliding over his crown, pushing out a drop of liquid arousal on a guttural grunt.
“Yes, rookie. Stroke that beautiful cock,” I urge as I watch his moves, as my own hand travels up and down my pulsing length.
He moans and pants as he works his shaft, shiny with the lube, making it feel even better for him, I’m sure, and making me think of lubing him up and guiding him into me.
I shudder, a groan ripping through me as I jack harder.
The video lasts forty-five filthy seconds, and I am halfway there already, hard and horny and utterly amazed at this guy’s guts, at his confidence, at his ballsiness.
And speaking of balls, oh yes, do I ever want to get my mouth on his.
I write back, dictating because I don’t want to stop touching myself.
* * *
Declan: I’m on my bed, hand down my shorts, watching your video, stroking my dick, wanting desperately to taste your come . . .
* * *
His response is short and crystal clear.
* * *
Grant: Show me.
* * *
Declan: I will.
* * *
Grant: Wanna see you come. I want sound.
* * *
Declan: You a porn director?
* * *
Grant: I just know what I want.
* * *
I angle the phone on a pillow by my thigh, turn it to selfie mode, then video. I grab some lube from the nightstand, coat my dick, and I go to town, jacking it fast, recording every second. Every noise I make.
“Yes,” I grunt. “Fucking yes. Unghhh.”
My fist is a blur as lust torches my veins. As I picture Grant straddling my chest, his gorgeous cock hovering above my lips, then I see him plunging it into my mouth.
“Ah fuck,” I groan.
I thrust up, hips jerking as I unload on my chest, moaning and groaning till I drag a finger through the mess.
I hit end, then I send the video and grab a tissue to clean up.
I lay there, spent. Exhausted. Blissed out.
Sixty seconds is all it takes for my return delivery.
His text arrives, and I click so fast on the video.
He’s faster, harsher, louder than me, and hell, I feel like I could come again just watching him.
He grips tight and rough, moaning and cursing, hand flying until he comes buckets on his chest.
I am enrapt.
Utterly enrapt in the sexiest selfie I’ve ever received.
The filthiest too.
But it’s not even the dirtiness that turns me on. It’s the fact that he did this, that he sent it, that he threw caution to the wind like this.
I’m about to reply when a new message lands on my phone.
No video this time.
Just a text.
The preview says only: hey, I need to tell you something.
My brow furrows. That feels like the start of bad news.
Of a tough conversation.
Like Hey, I don’t think we should do this again.
My heart stops, stutters, then speeds up again in the span of several seconds. I swallow roughly, nerves thrumming through me.
I don’t want that outcome. I don’t want his stop sign.
With a deep, fueling breath, I click open the message.
* * *
Grant: Hey, I need to tell you something. I need to tell you what I was picturing there at the end. What I’ve imagined every time I’ve jacked off since I met you.
* * *
This is hard for me to say, for a lot of reasons, but partly because I know I talk a good game. I may act like I know what I’m doing. This isn’t easy, but I’m telling you anyway since I want you to know what I was thinking.
* * *
I was thinking how much I want to sleep with you. Yeah, that probably won’t surprise you at all. But maybe this will.
* * *
I’ve never had sex before. With anyone.
* * *
And now I want to. With you.
15
Grant
My phone rings a minute later.
I answer it faster than I can swing a bat at a cutter.
“Rookie,” he rumbles, and my chest flutters.
“Hey,” I say, giving him my chillest voice. Can’t let on I’m a mess of nerves.
“Did you think that would turn me off? That you’re a virgin?” He dives right in, and the thoughtful tone settles me somewhat.
“Or freak you out? I don’t know. Maybe one or the other. Maybe both,” I say, the words pouring out in a rush. “I mean, you asked if I was vers, and I said same, and I don’t want you to think I’m a liar, now that you know I haven’t topped or bottomed,” I say in another fantastic display of blurt-dom. I’m a master at that with him, it seems.