Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Pearl was right in that text she sent me this morning. Sky isn’t himself. Not during the few hours he’s at church each day, and not when he’s here with me.
32
Luke
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to regulate my breathing. My dick is so hard. I can feel the mattress bounce as he jerks himself off. I want to spread his knees and get inside him so bad I could scream. Even sucking him off would be a dream come true. Now that his lungs and ribs are healed, he could enjoy it—but if I do that, I’ll want to take him, and…I can’t.
It’s hard to explain, so I’m not going to try. For now, no one’s actually said he can take dick, so it’s normal for me to say I’m waiting until he gets clearance.
Vance has other ideas. He scoots up behind me and starts rubbing his erection on me. I try not to make a sound, but there’s a low groan I can’t seem to keep in.
“Oh…feeling a little tempted, are we?” He reaches around, trying to get to my dick, but he can’t because he can’t prop up on his bad arm.
Instead, the deviant reaches into my pants and starts going at me from the back.
“I know you’ve got a baseball bat dick,” he says. “I should get down off the bed and walk around there so I can suck it.”
“Nope. Just going to sleep.”
“Sky, it’s nine-thirty.”
“I’ve got that early meeting with the lawyer.”
* * *
Vance
I blow my breath out. Then my cock throbs, and I re-commit. I can’t go on like this—without him. I get off the bed, walk around to his side, and go for his dick. Luke turns back over so his back’s to me.
“Shit, man. You’ve gone evil.”
I get back up on the bed, and again, he turns away.
“Fuck.” By now, I’m frustrated, and my ribs are sort of sore. “If you don’t want to, your choice.”
I lie on my back—without his help—and start to jerk off, same way I’ve done in the shower for the last week. He rolls over to face me. For a second, I think I’ve gotten lucky. Then he gets down off the bed and heads into the closet.
Oh, Luke.
Such a fucking runner. Hardly Mr. Unemotional, for all the shit he gives me. I start off the bed to find him in the closet, and he strides out of.
“Stay there,” he demands.
I throw my hand up. “Is there anything I can do, King Luke?”
“Go to sleep.”
I laugh.
“Don’t like it, go home—I mean I will.”
His words are like a gut punch. “Oh so you want me to go home?”
I keep my tone calm, but my heart is racing. “Is that what’s behind this Mr. Chastity bullshit? This thing between us run its course for you, so you don’t want to suck my cock or other shit you used to be insane for?”
“Yeah, that’s it, Vance. This thing between us has run its course.” He says it like the notion is absurd. “I put out a statement saying you’re my partner, but it’s over now, after less than a month.”
My ribs scream, and I realize I’m kind of halfway panting. My heart races. “How do I know it won’t be?”
“It isn’t,” he says hotly, “but maybe it should be.” He walks closer to the bed. “You like both of your arms? You want your head in one piece next time?”
“Next time? There’s a next time now?”
“There will always be something. If you stay with me, and if I stay the face of Evermore, there will be someone out to ruin us. Out to hurt us.”
“He—” our psychotic friend—who’s being held without bond until trial— “was out looking for you,” I point out. “Sally—” she’s our lawyer for this— “told you he’s been drawing you inside his cell.”
“So you want to be a widower?”
My racing heart comes crashing up into my throat. Tears sting my eyes like sunbursts, catching on the light that’s streaming out the bathroom door.
“If you die, Luke, I would fucking love to be your widower.”
He stalks closer. For a moment, I think he might kiss me. Then he’s up on the bed, up on his knees so he’s lording over me a little. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks softly.
“Just a normal person who’s in love with someone and won’t let anything take it away.”
“I’m not someone,” he says softly.
“Right—I forgot, you’re Luke McDowell.”
“I am. I can’t not be.” His chest starts to pump. His face is twisted in pain. “I can’t start over if I wanted to. Everywhere I go, people know me. People know my face. Even on Sea-3PO, at the yacht and on those little islands, I’ll see people and sometimes they know me.”
“Every one of them is not a crazed sociopath.”
“All it takes is just one person.”