Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Ungh!” Spencer cried out in surprise.
“I’ll get the syrup.” Emilio grinned wickedly and waggled his eyebrows as he walked away.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Is that a complaint?” Emilio called back over his shoulder as he searched the fridge for syrup. He turned around to see Spencer shaking his head and blushing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly.
The stress Spencer suffered about his perceived shortcomings in the bedroom was horrible, but one thing it seemed to do was make Spencer appreciate arousal in a way that was brand new for Emilio. Whether it was because he had always lived in crowded quarters or because he hadn’t ever had a real boyfriend or because the guys he had dated hadn’t been as mature as Spencer, Emilio didn’t know. But for whatever reason, in his experience, sex had been something to be enjoyed immediately and quickly, with him and whatever partner he had at the time rushing to get off as fast as possible. Spencer, on the other hand, was happy to stay wanting, to get worked up and remain that way. And Emilio had to admit, he liked that—liked being hard, liked touching and playing, liked ramping them both up and keeping them there. It was hot as hell.
He hopped back onto the counter next to the stove and poured some syrup on his plate. “Smells great,” he said as he tore a piece of french toast off, dipped it into the syrup, and then popped it in his mouth. “Oh, wow.” Emilio chewed and swallowed fast, immediately reaching for another piece. “This is so good.” He chewed and moaned, getting lost in the enjoyment of the food. “Where’d it go?” he asked when he came up empty reaching for the next bite. He darted his gaze around the room.
“In your stomach!” Spencer said with a laugh. “Where do you think it went?”
“I didn’t eat two slices of french toast.” Emilio licked his lips. “Did I?”
With another laugh, Spencer picked two more slices of bread off the skillet and slid them onto Emilio’s plate.
“Thanks!” Emilio stuffed a huge piece into his mouth. “There gonna be enough left for you?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. Eat.” Spencer looked at him and smiled, flashing his dimples. “I love how exuberant you are about everything.”
Emilio furrowed his brow, but kept eating as he repeated Spencer’s word, “Exuberant?”
“Excited. Like now.” Spencer nudged his chin toward Emilio’s already almost empty plate. “I make french toast and you make me feel like it’s a gourmet meal.”
“I don’t know nothing about gourmet food.” Emilio popped another piece of bread into his mouth and kept talking while he chewed. “But, man, you are incredible in the kitchen.” He swallowed and then licked his lips. “This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had.” He paused. “Well, that omelet you made last week was really good too, so maybe it’s a tie.” He furrowed his brow in thought and then added, “Oh, and that oven pancake thing with the apples and the lemons?” Emilio groaned and closed his eyes, a look of utter bliss on this face. “Seriously, man, the best.” He picked up the last piece, swiped it through the syrup, and held it up to Spencer’s mouth. “Open.”
Spencer parted his lips and Emilio fed him the sweetened bread.
“Good, right?” Emilio asked.
Spencer nodded and darted his tongue out to lick some errant syrup.
In a heartbeat, Emilio was off the counter. “Let me,” he said before leaning down and running his tongue over Spencer’s lips.
There was a moan and Emilio wasn’t sure whether it was his or Spencer’s.
“You know,” Emilio rasped as he swiped his tongue over Spencer’s lip again, “some people use syrup and other food for sex.”
Spencer scrunched his nose in distaste. “That sounds sticky and messy.”
Emilio snorted. “Yeah, I guess it does.” Suddenly, a flush crawled up Spencer’s neck and he lowered his gaze. “What’s wrong?” Emilio asked as he put two fingers under Spencer’s chin and lifted it.
“Nothing. I know I’m boring.” He gulped. “Sorry.”
“Spence, you are the furthest thing from boring.”
“I mean, in bed. I know I’m not really adventurous or whatever, but I can try.” He stared at Emilio, looking a little desperate and making Emilio’s chest ache. “If you want to, uh, use the syrup or do something else. I’ll try.”
“I’m not some wild guy, Spencer. I wake up at five in the morning, work hard all day, and all I’m looking for after that is a decent meal, good company, and someone to kiss and touch and”—he winked—“do some other stuff too, but nothing crazy. I ain’t into all that shit.” He gathered Spencer close to him and nuzzled his neck. “Besides, I like how you taste. Don’t see the point in covering that up.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer melted against him, draped his arms over Emilio’s shoulder, and massaged the back of his head. “I know you said you wanted me to get that underwear. I can do that.”