Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
But there’s everything else between us…
And Felix doesn’t know what I’m thinking anymore because I’m no longer thinking it.
Not when he strips off his shirt and tosses that ridiculous shower cap on the sink, and scrubs at his face with a cloth until I can see the red blooming in his cheeks as he stares, at my chest and abs and lower—he never even blinks.
And I want him before he even pushes his sweats down but then his sweats are down, and what the fuck did I ever see in girls when there’s this.
He walks over while stroking himself stiff and asks if there’s room for both of us, and I think I’d break a wall down just to make room, but there’s no need.
I step under the spray so the water hits the back of my neck again in that same, tight spot, and yeah, it still feels good (just not as good), but my brain is too hyper focused on Felix as he joins me in the shower that I don’t remember feeling any better than right now, right here with him.
SO, IT’S SETTLED. I’M NEVER SHOWERING ALONE AGAIN
JAKE
“I NEED TO rinse this stuff out of my hair,” Felix says, squinting when some of the conditioning mask drips into his eye.
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
There’s room in here but not that much room, and our dicks rub as we slide around each other and switch places.
I groan and bite my lip.
“Just give me a second, Jake.”
And then what, I almost ask, because I think we’re about to fuck around but maybe I’m reading this entire situation wrong.
Maybe Felix only came in here to take care of his hair, and he probably would’ve waited me out if I hadn’t given the universal “you can join me if you want” signal by flinging open the shower curtain, but I did, and then he caught the look on my face before I thought I masked it, and he knows exactly where my head was (and still kind of is) and we’re about to have the talk I still absolutely need.
And I won’t bitch if that’s what happens next.
I mean, sure. Fucking my way sober instead of talking about every little destructive thought I have seems way more fun, but I’m pretty positive the whole It works if you work it slogan has nothing to do with stroking a dick.
If he wants to talk, we’ll talk.
“You can touch me, you know,” Felix says with all the confidence in the world.
I guess that settles that.
My hands fly to his hips and stay there as he arches into the spray, and I can’t help the low, appreciative “Fuck” that comes out of my mouth as I stare at him.
Three months ago, if someone had asked me what body type I went for when it came to guys, I’m not sure I would’ve had an answer for that.
But now, I’d simply point at Felix. There’s no other way I’d respond.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I say. “And you don’t even know it, which is such bullshit. You should be walking around everywhere like you’ve got the biggest dick.”
Felix keeps his eyes closed under the spray and smiles the shyest smile.
“Whatever you say,” he mumbles.
I watch the water run through the deep grooves in his pale abs and follow it down, where I finally get my first look at the rest of his ink.
He has Self Love Club written in bold, block lettering just above his groin. It’s half hidden in his dark, trimmed pubes.
And I swear Felix has no idea how nice his dick is, and this is probably why he thinks he needs help drawing attention here.
He doesn’t.
In fact, it’s damn near impossible not to wrap my hand around him right now, but I really want to look at him first.
Both of his thighs are tatted, and I think I just found my favorite placement on a guy. This is sexy as hell.
His right thigh has an outline of a cat that could possibly be Bella (she better start liking him soon) and an off-centered heart with patches sewn into it above three black lines that go all the way around his leg. And on the left thigh, there’s an upside-down smiley face and the words one hour sober.
“I like this,” I say, fingertip tracing the lowercase letters.
“Does it beat out Kiss Here?” he asks.
“I don’t know yet.” Speaking of… “Is that one healed up all the way?”
“Yeah. It’s good to go.”
“Good.”
I step closer until we’re flush everywhere and lower my mouth to his inked skin, catching the water on my tongue as I open-mouth kiss that spot and suck until I’m sure I’ve turned the black ink a bruising purple.
Felix holds tight to my hair and digs his fingers into my ass, and he’s so fucking smug when he moans in my ear and says, “I knew you’d slut out over that one.”