Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He shut his brain down. It was better for both of them if his body led the way tonight.
Fitch thrust his tongue into his mouth again with a deep, hungry groan. A big palm moved to his throat, a thumb pressed softly against his heavy pulse. It was a gentle hold, non-threatening, comforting.
“Do you mean it?” Fitch asked, barely a finger’s width between them, his hot breath panting against Ansel’s wet lips.
Where was all his sass? With anyone else he’d make some smart-ass remark to cool things down, lighten the mood. But he wanted Fitch to know he took this seriously. This wasn’t just another hookup. He’d come to terms with the power of their attraction since listening to the messages. Deep down he’d known since the first moment they’d laid eyes on each other. There had been instant recognition there, instant fear. He was tired of running away. If he was going to run in his goddamn heels, he wanted to run toward something, something amazing.
“Yes.” He didn’t know if he was capable of following through on the promise, but in that moment he belonged to Fitch.
Fitch’s fingers flexed imperceptibly on his throat. “This is gonna sound crazy. And if you don’t want to, it’s fine. But ever since I saw this one video online, I can’t get it out of my mind.”
What kinky thing Fitch was going to ask of him? But before he could think of anything, Fitch said, “I want to eat your hole.”
Christ.
Ansel trembled as he held Fitch’s gaze. That wasn’t something people did with casual hookups. He wet his lips trying to find the right words. He was grimy from the club. Even though he’d done his prep before work, he hadn’t planned on getting rimmed.
“Shower first,” he said.
Fitch’s lips curled into a devilish smile and he pressed a quick kiss to Ansel’s parted lips. “Really? Have you done it before? What’s it like?”
“No. It’s always been one of those fantasies you never really believe will come true.”
Fitch’s eyes softened. “I’ll try to make it worth the wait. I’ve been doing my research, I think I know what to do.”
Ansel leaned forward and said against Fitch’s lips, “I have no doubt.”
The bathroom was too cramped so Fitch waited in the hall until Ansel was undressed and under the hot spray. Then, inch by devastating inch, Fitch revealed his hard, hairy body. The tan lines around his collar and biceps were new, but the rest was just as Ansel remembered. He gripped his cock with a soapy fist and let his eyes roam.
“Angel, do what you need to do before I climb in there with you and break the shower.” Fitch leaned against the sink, legs spread, thick cock hard against his stomach, hands gripping the edge of the counter.
How was Ansel supposed to concentrate with such a distraction so close?
He squeezed some body wash into his sponge and started washing away the sticky sweat and club smoke. He spent extra time cleaning his privates and did his best to ignore Fitch’s grunts and groans. He was facing the tiled wall of the shower when he lifted his leg to the edge of the tub and used his fingers to rub the soap through his crease. He needed to be super clean. He didn’t want anything to ruin his chances.
He was twisting one lathered finger inside when Fitch’s hand slid down his spine.
“Let me.” Fitch massaged one cheek, petting, coaxing.
Ansel steadied himself with both hands on the tile wall and closed his eyes. Standing in the tub put his ass at Fitch’s chest level. There was nothing to hide him from inspection. He was spread open, exposed like he’d never allowed himself to be with anyone else. Tremors rocked his body. Only his dancer’s balance kept him from collapsing when Fitch pressed a sudsy finger to his hole.
“Mmm, yes.” His ass fluttered around Fitch’s digit.
“Damn, that’s hot.” There was a tinge of surprise in Fitch’s voice.
More. He needed more. He pressed back, moving his hips trying to force Fitch deeper.
“Easy, Angel.” One burning palm gripped his ass while Fitch stretched him. It was torture. It was a fucking tease. It was awesome.
“I’m clean enough. Fuck.”
Fitch chuckled and went back to the sink while Ansel rinsed, and then turned off the water.
“I’ve missed your cursing.”
Ansel smirked over his shoulder as he ran the towel over his chest. “I hope that’s not the only thing you missed.”
“I can think of a few other things.” Fitch locked his eyes on Ansel’s ass.
Just to make the guy smile, he wiggled his hips before turning. It worked and the grin splitting Fitch’s face was reward enough.
* * *
The bed was neatly made up this time and the clutter was gone. His dancer must have cleaned up for him. The idea made Fitch smile as Ansel closed and locked his door. He dropped his pile of clothes in the corner while Ansel flipped on a small lamp on the dresser and started combing his hair.