Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
And turning me on.
He licks his lips, the tip of his tongue flicking over the corner of his mouth.
But his hands hang at his sides like he doesn’t know where to put them. Is he unsure after all? Regretting his can I kiss you question?
He silences my worries in a second as his mouth crashes down on mine.
He isn’t slow. He doesn’t take his sweet time. Beck jams the gas pedal. The race car peels away onto the track at one hundred miles an hour.
Sparks fly down my body. Electricity flares in my bones. He kisses me hard and harder still, his hands grabbing my face, his lips bruising mine.
Beck is fire and fury, and that cranks my engine. This is how I like it.
I don’t want sweet nothings. I want dirty everythings.
He growls as he kisses me, which makes me hotter and harder. He sucks on my bottom lip. I bite the edge of his mouth. He thrusts his tongue past my lips and devours me.
My head spins with lust as I taste him—he tastes desperate for me.
And determined too.
Letting go of my face, he pushes on my chest so I back up against the counter. The edge of it digs into my back. It hurts, and I don’t care.
His hands travel everywhere on my body, artlessly gripping my pecs, then grabbing my jaw, and sliding down my arms. Cataloging me. Seconds ago, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Now, he doesn’t know how to stop touching me.
At last, he returns his palms to my face, holding me hard as he kisses me relentlessly. I slide my hands around to his ass, curl them tight over his cheeks, and slam his hard-on against my dick.
We make out like that, grinding and groaning, erections rubbing.
Till he wrenches away from me, panting, catching his breath. He stares at me like he wants to fuck right here, right now.
Well, yeah.
Then reality taps me on the shoulder. I’m not opposed to sex with a stranger. There’s nothing wrong with a one-night stand. But Beck isn’t a stranger. We work in the same, small world.
He’s not out, at least as far as I know. And that raises some questions. Is he just a straight guy wanting to mess around with a gay dude?
That’s a hard pass for me.
I set a hand firmly on his pecs. “Is this an experiment for you?”
With a frustrated huff, he shakes his head, then nods. I jerk my gaze back, my hand becoming a stop sign on his chest. Do not pass GO. “Which one is it?”
He sighs heavily. “Shit, sorry. It’s not an experiment,” he mutters as if it’s hard for him to say.
That’s not entirely reassuring, his half answer. I don’t want to be some straight guy’s walk on the dude side. Been there, done that. A lot of things suck about getting dumped, but getting ditched by a guy who never really liked guys is one of the worst.
I push him away by more than a few inches. “Are you sure you’re not just messing with me?”
Adamantly, he shakes his head. “No. Definitely not. I’m not.”
“So then are you . . .?” If he can’t say gay or queer or bi or pan, I don’t want to fool around anymore.
His gaze drops to my hand on his chest, to the distance I created, as if looking for the answer there. He raises his face, his dark eyes flashing with vulnerability. “I’m . . . bi.”
My lips quirk up. Now we’re in business. Any variety of queer works for me. And while I’ve never known him to be out, I also don’t know him. Nor do I keep a list of newly out players. Plus, I just met the guy, and I don’t want to turn this into an inquisition with any more questions—like are you out to your teammates, or does your family know. Now, when we’re both hot and bothered—and both into guys rather than experiments—isn’t the time for a deeper discussion on how far out of the closet or not he is.
Now is the time for getting off.
But just to have a little fun, I lift a hand to his jaw, run my thumb along his face. “You sure about that, Cafferty?”
That seems to ease whatever nerves he felt in speaking his truth. He wiggles a brow, gives me a cocky smirk. “Positive. Want me to prove it to you?”
I lift my chin, seeing his bet and raising it. “I really fucking do.”
With speed I didn’t see coming, he unbuttons my shorts, yanks down the zipper, and fondles my cock.
7
MY QUARTERBACK CRUSH
Beck
He’s silky to the touch and all steel underneath. My mouth waters. My chest tingles.
I want to play with his dick all night. To stroke and tease. To lick and suck.