Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
The second I finished, it was like my body wanted to give out. I nearly collapsed, but he shoved to his feet, opened his pants, and tugged them and his underwear down.
“I’ll suck you off,” I said, but he stopped me.
“Lift your shirt.”
I did as Marcus said. He spit on his hand again, this time using it to stroke his own dick. His arm moved quickly, tugging at his long, thick erection. He was so beautiful, so sexy and strong. I swear sometimes he looked like a fucking king.
Marcus growled, his muscles tightening as his cum shot from his cock, the first splash landing on my groin, then my cock and my stomach. He came all over me. When his balls were milked dry, Marcus rubbed his load into my skin. “Now you’ll smell like me the rest of the night, and they’ll know you’re mine.”
Holy.
Shit.
“I think that might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Marcus pulled up my underwear, then my jeans, buttoning and zipping them for me before he did the same for himself. “See you at home, baby boy.”
He made it all the way to the door before I asked, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He kept his back to me.
“It does to me.” He mattered to me.
Marcus sighed. “My parents canceled dinner. It’s nothing new. I don’t know why I let it bother me. I’m too old for that shit.”
“No one is ever too old to need to feel loved or important to people they care about.” I walked over to him, wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, and kissed his nape.
“I have the Beach Bums for that.”
But he hadn’t gone to see any of them tonight. He’d come here…to me. What was going on? “You’re important to me, Marcus.”
He didn’t respond right away. “I want you in my bed when you come home tonight.”
“Okay.”
And then, without another word, he walked out.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcus
A couple of days later, I was still trying to figure out that possessive shit I’d pulled on Kai. The weird dichotomy of watching him flirt and knowing he wouldn’t let other men have him while we were fucking was…hell, how did I explain it? It made fire ignite in my gut, lick up my spine, and basically completely consume me.
That I could explain away easier than telling him I wanted him in my bed. And that he’d been there each night since. Easy sex? Yes. He was right next to me, so I could pull him close and touch him anytime I wanted. I wasn’t a stupid man, though. I also wasn’t a liar and couldn’t let myself pretend there wasn’t something else twisted up with how much I wanted him physically.
I liked Kai, and I had no idea what the fuck to do about it—or what I wanted to do about it. I’d never experienced anything like this before, and I had to admit, it was inconvenient that I was now, with someone nine years younger, who wanted independence and planned to move across the country.
And that just covered some of the logistics…logistics I had no goddamned reason to even be thinking about because, again, I didn’t know what this meant or what I wanted, and I sure as shit didn’t think I’d be any good at it. I wasn’t made for something like what Declan and Sebastian had, or Parker and Elliott. I couldn’t say the words they did and didn’t know how to be who a partner needed me to be.
These thoughts had been plaguing me for days, and I was really fucking done with it. I wasn’t one to get all up in my head like this. I preferred facts over emotions because they were a whole lot easier to deal with.
I had a feeling some of this was coming from the conversation with the Beach Bums about liking Kai, as well as from currently being on my way to my folks’ house for lunch. For once they didn’t cancel, and there I was, clearing my afternoon to meet with them.
They’d designed their own home, which was different from the one I grew up in. It was sleek and modern, with hard lines. Like my place, it was bigger than what they needed, the two of them able to get lost enough that they could be home together and not run into each other unless they wanted to.
They’d never said it, but I was pretty sure they hadn’t wanted kids, that I hadn’t been planned. They’d been older when I was born and hadn’t slowed down in the least.
I parked in the driveway and headed to the large, black front door set against the white house. I rang the bell, and a few seconds later, my dad was inviting me in. He wore slacks and a white button-up even though he wasn’t working. Gray curls were peppered throughout the black ones, his hair always freshly done.