Starting From the Top (Starting From #5) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Starting from Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
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But the truth was, our mutual friends didn’t know about us, and guitar lessons weren’t a regular occurrence. Johnny’s schedule hadn’t meshed with Parker’s recently, so they’d only met twice since their lesson at the studio. Both times were at my house and on both occasions, I couldn’t believe how hard it was not to touch him. I supposed it made sense. There was no pretense between us when we were alone. I didn’t ask him to come over for dinner or swing by his place for a beer. Food and alcohol were the last things on either of our minds. We were more concerned with getting skin to skin as fast as humanly possible.

Tonight was a perfect example. He bent to greet Lullah with scratches and sweet nothings of the “You’re such a good girl” variety, then looked up at me with that sweet, devilish smile that made my heart flip in my chest. The second I closed the door, he shot to his feet and sealed his mouth over mine. We came together like magnets, twisting our tongues as we swayed and grinded feverishly.

We hurried up the stairs, tugging at shirts and belts on our way to the master suite. Clothes and shoes flew when we stepped into my room. We tumbled naked onto the bed, kissing, licking, and sucking in a manic fusion.

Somewhere in between, he swallowed my cock and brought me a little too close to the edge before I’d rolled on a condom and fucked him into the mattress. Then he was on top of me, hands around my throat, riding me like a bull at a rodeo. He had a dirty mouth, and he wasn’t shy about asking for what he wanted—a finger in his hole, a smack on the ass…but he waited for me to tell him when he could come. I didn’t know if we were playing a game, but I was too turned-on to care either way. I’d do pretty much anything he wanted to see that blissed-out look on his handsome face.

I drifted off for a few minutes with my arm slung around his slim waist and woke up blinking in the dimly lit room, pleased to find him sleeping soundly beside me. I didn’t get many opportunities to study him like this. Johnny was constantly in motion and when he was still, he wore armor to protect him. The makeup, dark clothes, and guitar were his shield designed to keep a wide variety of people away.

I was shocked I’d made it this close. Superficially speaking, I wasn’t in his sphere. But I had a feeling he liked the fact that I wasn’t really available. He didn’t want a real relationship. Boyfriends tended to want time and attention, and he wasn’t in a good place to give either of those things freely. He wanted sex, though, and with me, he could have his freedom and get laid often.

So maybe our low expectations and inability to commit was the bond that ultimately drew us together. We could relax, knowing neither one of us would be forced to let the other down easy with a gentle reminder that his career or my family life wouldn’t allow us to be more than lovers. That might sound grim, but damn, it was freeing in a way that maybe only Johnny could understand.

I gave in to temptation and pushed a strand of hair from his forehead when his eyes fluttered open. “Hey.”

Johnny moaned softly. “Were you watching me sleep? ’Cause that’s not creepy at all.”

I smirked. “I’m not going to apologize. You’re pretty when you sleep.”

“Pretty?” he snorted, rubbing his eyes before rolling toward me.

“Yep. It might be the lipstick.”

“I probably got some on your dick.”

“Charming,” I huffed, setting my hand on his hip.

He snickered softly. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. It was a long day. We should clean up and go back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired now. Talk to me. How was your day, dear?”

“Excellent. After weeks of wrangling, we finally agreed on terms with the McMillan Group. They’re the sparkling water guys who want you on their bottle.”

“I remember.”

“How’s that going?” I prodded, caressing his ass.

Johnny shrugged. “No idea. That’s Charlie’s domain. I just show up wherever he directs us. I do know that they asked for four front-row tickets for our shows in LA, New York, and DC. Greedy bastards.”

“How does that work? They’re paying you to represent their water. You don’t owe them anything.”

“It’s a courtesy thing. You know, people do that kind of shit to be nice.”

I furrowed my brow comically. “Nice? What’s that?”

“Oh, please. You’re not the big, bad asshole you let everyone think you are. I’ve seen you be…nice.” He snickered appreciatively when I rolled my eyes. “Bartering for tickets must be a thing. Clay asked for a few too. Then again, he’s the type who’ll ask for forgiveness instead of permission every time.”


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