Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
It wasn’t even a veiled threat. That shit was as blatant as the quarter-sized birthmark on my left ass cheek.
Jason raised his hands. “You don’t have to do all that. We’re on your side here. We want to keep your son safe.”
“And you’ll do that by getting the fuck out.” His spit misted in the air, flecks landing on my chin. I rubbed it off with a thumb, sensing this anger was going nowhere but up from here. We wouldn’t be able to diffuse this bomb.
“Let’s go,” I said to Jason. He looked at me, ready to keep digging, but I just shook my head. It wasn’t the right time, and we risked way more than we were gaining by choosing to stay.
Jason nodded and started toward the door. Mayor Rosewell pushed past her husband and stopped us at the front door, her arms twisting around her body as if she wanted to cocoon herself in limbs. “I’m sorry, Rob has a deep mistrust of law enforcement.” She looked over our shoulders, and I could see tears beginning to collect at the corners of her eyes. “If anything comes up, please call me. And please find this guy… I can’t… if anything happens to Byron.” She covered a soft cry with a hand over her mouth.
My heart hurt for her, understanding the fear that gnawed at her insides like trapped rodents trying to break free. “We’ll protect him, I promise.” I offered her my most reassuring smile. “We’re going to find the Pegasus and stop him before anyone else gets hurt. This is all coming to an end.”
“God, I hope so,” she said. “I really, really hope so.”
We stepped out into the rainy gloom and left the mayor’s house with some solid answers but even more questions than we had before.
One thing was definitely certain: it was going to be a long night.
25
JASON QUILL
Matthew and I were spent. Exhaustion seeped into my bones, making my muscles tired and my brain slightly foggy. The clock on my living room wall said it was two thirty in the morning, but sleep didn’t seem anywhere near close. There was still so much to do and with not nearly enough time to do it.
“How you holding up?” I asked Matt, who was sitting with one leg thrown over my love seat’s armrest, his back against the other, a thick textbook-looking thing in his hands. It was a book on Greek mythology. I tried not to let my eyes linger too long, but I couldn’t help it.
Matt was just so… so fucking perfect. Even in moments like these, where sleep was trying to drag me under, when work was vitally important, Matt still found a way to look devastatingly handsome. He had on a pair of soft gray lounging shorts that bunched down his thigh as he stretched his leg out, the muscles in his calf twitching and shifting. His toes curled, and he sat up straight in the chair, keeping those legs open wide enough for me to get a peek up the shorts and see that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Instantly, I was peaking, my dick growing hard at the sight of Matt’s.
“I’m all right. I could use a little break, though. These letters are starting to move around the page on their own.”
“You sure you just aren’t having a stroke?”
He sniffed the air. “Wait, so you aren’t burning toast in the kitchen right now?”
I cocked my head and chuckled. “Nope, no toast.”
Matt shot me a wink and set the book down on the coffee table, which was cluttered with junk food after we made a stop at the gas station after our visit to the mayor’s house, collecting fuel for the night ahead. He stood up and stretched again, holding his hands over his head and rolling his neck. His hips pushed out, and the visible outline of his package appeared as clear as day.
I licked my lips and pried my eyes away, looking down at the laptop and clicking Play on the surveillance video I was watching. The computer placement on my lap conveniently hid my boner, but it didn’t get rid of it. Quite the opposite. I made my cock bounce, pushing it up against the pillow that held the laptop. The pressure on my dick and flash of pleasure jolting through me was only a taste of what I could have if it were Matt on my lap instead of this damn laptop.
Matt seemed like he was reaching his limit for the night. He chugged some water and did a lap around the living room, walking a circle and ending up in front of my jukebox. It was a classic item and might not have fit with the rest of my more modern furniture, but I didn’t care; I loved it. It used to be my grandfather’s jukebox, and I’d always been obsessed with it, asking to play it every time we’d visit.