Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I held his head and fucked his mouth, pumping my hips double time while he clawed at my ass cheeks, urging me to go faster, harder.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I choked, pulling my cock from his mouth.
Declan licked the underside of my balls, then sat back on his heels. “Come on me. I want you to lick it off me. I want you to—”
I let out a strangled gasp and exploded. I couldn’t do much to contain the mess, and Dec didn’t seem to mind when jizz hit his shirt, his cheek, his chin, and the corner of his mouth. I sank to my knees and captured his face again, pushing my tongue between his lips before licking him clean.
When I was satisfied with my effort, I pulled away and closed my eyes. “God, I’m gonna regret that in the morning.”
Declan huffed as he stood. He kicked my knee to get my attention and offered me his hand. “Dude, I wouldn’t complain if I were you. I’m the one with cum in my beard.”
I redressed swiftly, giving him a once-over as I zipped my jeans and buckled my belt. “Yeah, it’s in your hair too.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Hey, you literally asked for it. I’m not apologizing for any—”
“Relax, T. I don’t want your fucking apology.” He narrowed his eyes angrily.
“What do you want? Oh, wait. This was a down payment for playing a track on your record, eh?”
“Down payment? I didn’t know you were charging in installments.”
I didn’t either. I didn’t know that I was doing anything in particular. One second we were arguing in a bar and the next…
I swiped my hand over my stubbled jaw, fixating on his washboard abs as he yanked his T-shirt off. He used it to clean up before stuffing it into his back pocket. Then he pulled his leather jacket on over his tattooed chest and damn, that was hotter than it should have been. I licked my lips distractedly and stepped away from him.
“You should use the bathroom. You’re kind of a mess,” I grumbled.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m going home.” He zipped his jacket and glanced at me expectantly. “So, um…tomorrow, right?”
I let out a humorless half laugh. “Fuckin’ unreal.”
His hesitant smile dipped. “Okay. I’ll figure something else out.”
“No, I’ll help you. One song…tomorrow. I’ll be in the studio at nine a.m. The other guys usually get in around ten. I’d suggest calling your band and asking them to get here early. You work around Zero.”
“Okay, sure, but we’re gonna need more than an hour. This recording is actually going on the album. You’ve never played with these guys or heard this song or—”
“Hey.” I held my hand up like a stop sign. “I know how it works. But one BJ, even a good one, doesn’t entitle you to take over my calendar. Have your shit together and be ready to roll at nine.”
Declan grinned. “It was better than good, and you know it.”
I gave him a lascivious half smile. “Later, Dec.”
I moved along the hallway into the main office and stopped to wash my hands in the restroom before heading toward the studio to grab my helmet. I thought Dec might follow me, but I breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t. I needed space and maybe a brief session with the punching bag in the gym.
It was going to take me a few minutes…or days, to figure out what the hell happened tonight. I went from meeting Charlie at the bar next door to getting the blowjob of my life from the one guy I swore would never get another piece of me as long as we both lived.
So much for having an iron will and amazing self-restraint. It wasn’t like me to let my guard down, especially where Declan was concerned. But nothing was normal these days. The whole fucking world was tits up and completely out of sync. It was pointless to overanalyze or try to make sense of anything. I could question my sanity tomorrow.
I pulled out my key card, opened the studio door, and stopped in my tracks.
“What are you guys doing here?”
Justin and Gray glanced up from their guitars. They were facing each other on the sofa with a notebook between them. They were obviously working on lyrics, but they could have been doing that from the comfort of their own home. It was weird that they were here at—I turned my wrist to check my watch. Ten thirty.
“Waiting for you.” Justin propped his guitar against the sofa, then leaned on a cushion to drape his long legs over his boyfriend’s lap. “We saw your bike in the parking lot. Where’ve you been?”
I bit back a sarcastic response when I noted the genuine concern in his eyes. Justin was my best friend and the one person I confided in about the facets of my life that had nothing to do with music. We’d been through a lot together over the past few years. Surviving the implosion of our previous band, Gypsy Coma, and weathering a bit of scandal while we started Zero had been an adventure and a half.