Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He moans into my mouth, and I pull him closer. His arms tighten around me; my dick hardens more as he rubs his ass on my legs. Evan’s hands slip under my beanie, and he threads his fingers through my hair.
I lower my arms, cup his tight ass, and then I’m groaning into him and he’s swallowing it down.
This is stupid, really fucking stupid, but I can’t seem to help myself. I don’t know what it means or even if I need it to mean anything. We’re friends, close, who cares if we share a kiss?
My hold tightens on him and just as I move to put him on his back and cover his body with mine, riiing breaks through the moment, and we both jerk away from each other.
Evan reaches up and touches his mouth, and damned if it doesn’t make me smile.
Riing! My cell goes off again. It’s as if it shocks Evan into action and he jumps off my lap. I pull the phone from my pocket and answer, “What?” My voice comes out a little too gruff.
“We’re heading to dinner. You and the Karaoke Kid wanna go?” Cody asks.
“Yes! Let’s go!” Evan says, obviously hearing Cody’s question. “I’m starved.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll meet you guys downstairs.”
I hang up and Evan is already standing and gathering his pup gear. “I’m gonna go”—he points to the room—“put this stuff away and get dressed. We can go or whatever. I’ll just be a second.”
“Ev?” I ask, and he stops in his bedroom doorway, back to me. “We’re good?”
Turning he looks at me and smiles. “Yeah, Frankie. We’ll always be good.” Thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if I fucked up this friendship.
13
Evan
A bright, blue strobe light flashes off and on as mist from the fog machines fills the dance floor, which is packed for leather night at the Eagle. I’m dressed in the outfit Derek helped me pick out at Otterly. With a vodka Sprite in my right hand, I keep my left over my head as I move to the beat of Amber’s “Sexual.”
A big bear creeps up from behind me and starts grinding on my ass.
Normally, I’d be fine dancing with any stranger, but he’s particularly aggressive, and Derek and Jackson swoop in shortly after, obviously sensing my discomfort. It’s the sort of thing Frankie would do if he were here, but he had to work late, covering a shift, and should be coming soon enough.
Jackson pushes between the bear and me and grinds on me from behind while Derek dances in front of me, backing his ass up against my pelvis and shaking it like he’s trying to show me how a real power bottom does it.
Once the bear moves on, Derek glances over his shoulder, looking at me briefly before turning and starting to make obnoxiously loud gasps. “Oh, Evan, harder!” he calls out, moaning like he’s spilling his load all over the dance floor.
I burst into laughter, and as I move my hand toward my chest, I realize I’ve forgotten about the drink in my hand. It goes across my chest and down to the crotch of my pants.
“Fuck!” I call out. Derek spins around and assesses the damage. “Hey, dude. Keep the watersports confined to the bathroom, will you?” he asks before taking my hand and guiding me toward the bar on the other side of the dance floor, calling back to Jackson, “Bottom down, we need a medic, Daddy.”
Derek grabs some napkins and passes them to me, helping me clean up my mess. While working to dry off my crotch, I notice there are plenty of gazes shifting our way. Oh my God. They must think I’m a fucking klutz.
“They’re just jelly because they know they can’t hit this hot piece of ass,” Derek insists, and I can tell he’s just trying to make me laugh or feel better…probably both. As much as he gives me a hard time, he knows when I’m feeling vulnerable and is always there to stick up for me…like he was when that bear was dancing up on me and the way he took me under his wing after my breakup with Peter.
By the time we manage to wipe off my pleather pants, Jackson already has a new drink for me ready to go. He passes it to me when Frankie approaches.
“There you guys are,” he says. “Sorry it took me a bit. Had to shower and change.”
He wears a black leather H-style harness, his chest and torso on full display as he rests his hand on the waist of his dark-wash jeans.
“You missed it,” Derek says. “Your boyfriend here just got so excited on the dance floor, he wet himself.”
Frankie chuckles. “Oh, I bet he did.”
His gaze meets mine, and he offers that warm and ever-so-charming Frankie smile. It’s the sort of smile that assures me everything’s okay between us.