Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Good. Me too.” Dylan leaned in and kissed him again, and Apollo almost wanted to say screw it and head back to the ferry after all. But then Dylan broke away, tugging him farther down the path. “And we’re both going to need energy. Feed me.”
“Yes, sir.” God, when was the last time he’d laughed this much? A cool breeze swept over the landing, ruffling the banner advertising a sale in one of the boutiques. And it felt like the wind whipped through his life too, clearing out all the cobwebs and cranky thoughts and leaving only crisp, clear skies.
Chapter Fifteen
Not a date. Dylan shuddered as Apollo’s lips grazed his neck. He slumped against Apollo, glad for the heavy railing of the boat covering how turned on he was by Apollo’s muscular arms around him. But this wasn’t a date. Dylan had spent all evening reminding himself of that, believing it less with each repetition because it sure as heck felt date-like, from how close they’d stood with beers at the bar while waiting for their table to how they’d shared each other’s entrees.
They’d drunk far more than they should have with the meal, talking about everything from the girls to soccer, reluctant to leave, even though they both knew where the dinner was headed. It was like verbal foreplay, seeing which of them would give in first and demand to leave. In the end, they’d looked at each other, heat arcing between them as they both summoned the waiter, never breaking eye contact. And they’d raced back to the ferry dock holding hands, laughing as they tried to not miss the next boat to the mainland.
This wasn’t the Apollo he’d known for the past month. That Apollo was grim. Stoic. Polite, but never what someone might call warm. But this Apollo was like a wildfire, scorching mountain peaks, wreaking havoc on the boundaries of Dylan’s emotions, torching his resolve to keep his distance. And just like fire, he was gorgeous in his intensity—all that energy focused on him—but it was Dylan who’d be left with the blackened landscape when this weekend was done and they had to get back to normal. Whatever normal was.
It was hard to think with the warm bulk of Apollo pressing him into the rail, with Apollo’s breath in his ear. The inky night air was crisp, making him cuddle into Apollo. So many times in the past it had been Dylan doing the crowding and touching, but there was something rather seductive in this reversal. Apollo shuffled his feet, finding purchase as the boat rocked.
Tipsy. Ah, that was it. Dylan was definitely buzzing, and the usually rock-solid Apollo had to be doing the same. That explained the laughing and the touching and the unrestrained eagerness. Darn it. Dylan wished that just this...whatever it was between them was enough, that it could be the sole source of Apollo’s sudden mood shift, that he alone could intoxicate Apollo to this affectionate state.
The lights of downtown beckoned as the boat approached the dock. Wanting more with this man was as foolish as trying to harness the flickering lights of the tall buildings. And yet...
I want it all. He wanted the job in San Diego, a future together, and an endless stream of nights like this. Spinning, he grabbed Apollo’s shirt with greedy hands. Behind them some passengers whooped, but Dylan didn’t pay them any heed, instead kissing Apollo with all his mixed-up emotions and weird need. He put every last emo feel into this moment, this memory. Emotions were stupid. Lust, now lust he could handle.
“Whoa.” Apollo pulled away, breathing hard, eyes glassy. “We need a room quick before we commit public indecency.”
“Your command wouldn’t appreciate that,” Dylan said, letting himself be steered down the ramp, and off the boat.
“Come on.” Apollo tugged him in the direction of the parking lot. “Need to get you home before you tempt me into the backseat of the car—”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Dylan winked at him and sped up his steps.
“We are not doing this in the parking lot,” Apollo said firmly as he easily caught up to Dylan. “And no shenanigans while I’m driving.”
“Who says you’re driving?” Dylan put a dirty lilt on the question, fishing out his set of keys for emphasis. It still felt kind of weird, having keys to so much of this man’s life yet not really sharing any of it.
“Fresh air chased away my buzz, but you’re still toasty.” Apollo shoved him into the passenger seat. Dylan didn’t argue with the assessment, but if not the alcohol, then what was with the PDA from Apollo? The laughing? Just like that, Dylan was cast back into a sea of doubts. Not a date, he reminded himself even as his heart thumped faster. “But if you’re hung up on driving, we can flip for it when we get back to the house.”