Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
“Looks like you’re in charge here; I’m just along for the ride.” It was the most sarcastic, bold answer Indi could offer while being held down, ass exposed and burning from the more than firm swat he’d just received. “Show me what you’ve….”
Like before, Indi was unable to finish his sentence. “Clay’s huge cock, without any prep, pumped into him with one dominant thrust of his hips.”
“Fuucckk!” Indi roared. He was blind but could have sworn he saw fireworks when Clay impaled him without any preparation. It felt fucking perfect—like Indi had always dreamed it would feel like to have sex with Clay. “Fuck, yes.” No, it wasn’t fair to Clay for me to pretend not to know who he really was, but it wasn’t fair on Clay’s side either. “Harder! Please, harder,” Indi begged.
Clay obliged.
While Indi’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, Clay’s fingers wrapped around Indi’s hips as Clay pounded him from behind. There would be bruises…Indi wouldn’t get to see them, but they would definitely be there. Everything Clay did, every tilt of his hips, and every fucking deep stroke felt utterly delicious. It was a violent fuck, and apparently that’s what made both of them wild. Clay’s sweat dripped onto Indi’s back. Indi’s own sweat dripped…well, fucking everywhere. His cock, hard and throbbing, leaked cum every time Clay’s dick rubbed against Indi’s prostate.
Clay cursed and growled. Indi cursed and begged for more.
“Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again!” Clay yelled—then fucked Indi even harder. “Stay away from that kind of trash.”
Even while Indi was ass-up and being stuffed by Clay’s cock, he couldn’t allow Clay to just boss him around. It wasn’t in his nature. Indi was arrogant and determined to live his own life, regardless of how bleak it might be. “Sorry, Travis, you aren’t the boss of me.” Putting that many words together had been more difficult than Indi had thought with nothing but pure pleasure rushing through his body.
“Is that so?” Indi heard the smirk in Clay’s voice and should have probably known he was about to make him eat my own words. A stinging slap echoed in the room as Clay’s palm made harsh contact with Indi’s ass cheek. “Cum for me, Judas.”
His voice was husky and filled with authority. Sexy. Dominant.
Indi’s balls emptied seconds after he’d issued the command. Indi roared and banged his head against the table. His body felt weak and powerful at the same damn time—just like he hated Clay and wanted him at the same damn time.
Indi felt Clay’s cock jerk inside him as he emptied his seed into the condom. There was no roar with his release. Hell, there had barely been any reaction at all. Indi heard Clay remove the condom, tie it up, and then zip up his pants. As soon as he moved away from him, Indi worked to get his own clothing straightened. His ass ached in a powerfully erotic way but everything else suddenly felt wrong. The temp in the room felt ice-cold.
“That one’s on the house, Judas,” Clay murmured, fake accent completely gone. “This isn’t working for me anymore.”
Terror washed over Indi. There was no reason for it but yet, there it was—scaring the shit out of him. Fake Clay fucking him was a stupid game of chicken, nothing more. At least that was how it was supposed to be. “Why?” Indi blurted out without even trying to hide the desperation and fear in his voice.
Indi heard Clay’s fingers punching in the code to let himself out.
“It’s Count Chocula cereal in the grocery bags. I know it’s your favorite and before you start the third degree on how I know, the answer is because you have around eight t-shirts with Count Chocula on them…which no grown man should wear. Enjoy. Call Lydia. She’ll send you somebody else for your next business arrangement.”
Out the door Clay went, shattering Indi into pieces.
*****
Levi
With my frustration level rising with every word coming from the other end of the phone, I began stomping across the length of my apartment. Things were going so fucking smoothly until Mr. Cutie, aka Judas Iscariot, moved in. The moment he’d bought the house, I’d seen trouble in my future. Then, when he did nothing but mind his own business, walk his dog, and fuck his paid escort, I let my guard down. Huge mistake. Mistakes and underestimations were what led to me having to hold a gun to his temple. Now, I was going to have to do even worse.
“You’re the best in the business, Mac,” I growled. “Don’t tell me you can’t find out who this guy really is. I need to know what I’m up against. I can’t have the Doctor hearing about him and trying to get involved with my end of the business.”