Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Bishop’s balls were heavy between his thighs, his hands twitched to touch, to hold, but he’d learned restraint. If he did this right and exhibited patience, he could earn the right to give Edison what he’d be looking for. “I believe I am too.”
“Good.” Edison nodded, his sweet smile back in place. “Now are you gonna eat those cookies, or should I?”
Bishop laughed… he laughed, then popped a whole cookie into his mouth. He chewed it slow, the way Edison had, as the warm treat exploded with flavor on his tongue. He moaned loudly, going for another. Damn, they were fucking delicious. He didn’t hold back his praises and may have OD’d a little on the groans, but he liked how Edison was watching him with fascination.
“Let me give you a few to take home.” Edison dragged his eyes away from Bishop’s mouth. He’d been ogling the whole time, and Bishop had been careful as he snuck glimpses of the bulge in Edison’s thin pants.
“I could eat all of those. You got skills, handsome.” Bishop took the Ziploc bag. “I’ll add these in with my lunch.”
“You take your lunch?” Edison beamed. “Me too. Most days I have leftovers.”
Bishop smirked. “I do. It’s cheaper. My lunch is usually a turkey and cheese, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and protein bars.”
“Oh fudge!” Edison recoiled. “That sounds … not appetizing.”
Bishop was mesmerized and charmed. “Did you just say fudge?”
“Shut up.” Edison rolled his eyes. “I see no reason to curse just for the heck of it.”
“You mean like I do?” Bishop winked, making Edison blush and turn away.
“No. Not you.” Edison shrugged. “You talk fine.”
Bishop could’ve lingered there all night but… “I should go. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“Its fine… really. It was nice to have some company for a while. Break up the monotony of work and reading.” Edison began to walk him to the front door. “When do you think you can get started?”
“I can put some sketches together this week. And we can go over them on Friday to see if it’s something you like. If all’s approved, I’ll do a simple contract and I can start this weekend. Do you mind me working evenings during the week until it’s complete? It’ll go a lot faster.”
“No. Not at all. I’m home every night. You won’t be disturbing or interrupting anything.”
Home every night? God, why was a man as gorgeous as him alone every night? Well he won’t be anymore. “Okay. Friday it is.”
Edison stood in the doorway after Bishop walked down the couple of steps, “I’ll see you then.”
Yes, you will. Bishop’s entire ride home he thought that this could be the night when it all changed.
Chapter Eighteen
Bishop
It was the fourth night in a row that Bishop hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d lain in bed again with his hand down his briefs and his mind consumed with Edison. He’d seen him leaving to and from work each day in those nice suits, but they hadn’t spoken to each other, just a wave or nod. It wasn’t enough! Bishop was going crazy. He had so many questions he’d wanted to ask, especially after he’d had to air his own ugly skeletons. Like how old was Edison? What’d happened to his dad, and why was he all alone? How’d he’d get so mature? Many more swirled around in his head, along with ideas for his backyard reading nook that was going to impress the hell out of him. If Bishop couldn’t be anything more for Edison, he could definitely be the right man for this job.
He was dressed by six Friday morning and at the table eating his second bowl of cereal when he heard Mike’s door open. His dad was in his boxers, his steps heavy, and his face scrunched-up as if he was impersonating the Grinch. “What the hell are you doing up so early?” he grumbled, leaving the door open while he took a long piss.
“I need your help with something,” Bishop said, adding a few finishing touches to his sketches.
“Damn, boy. Are those some new designs for me?” Mike asked, leaning over Bishop with his morning breath.
Bishop bowed him away. “Dad, go brush your teeth, I got something to talk to you about.”
“Fuck off.” Mike reached into the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice. He finished it in a couple of gulps then tossed the container into the garbage. He sat in the chair across from him, still looking half sleep. “Better?”
Bishop scoffed. “Whatever. Look. These are for that side job I got.”
“Oh. So you got it? I hadn’t heard anything else.”
“Yeah, I got it. These are a few different ideas for me to show him today but I wanted to know if you could do up a quick contract for me after I show these?”