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)
“I, um. I’m glad you came back.” Ansel’s lashes lifted and their eyes locked.
“I should never have left, Angel.” Fitch added, “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Okay.” Ansel smiled and closed the door.
As he drove away, Fitch looked into the rearview mirror to see Ansel standing on the curb, watching him go.
There was no denying the truth of their relationship. He was headed for a deep, endless vortex of the L-word. And he had a feeling this time would be the last time he ever fell. Funny, unlike with everyone before Ansel, he didn’t have the urge to catch himself.
Maybe it was like those circus performers who performed dangerous stunts. There must be a calm that washed over a person right before they stuck their heads into the jaws of a lion or let go of the trapeze bar. Whizzing through the air without a safety net—yep, that was how he felt. He didn’t know when he’d land, if he ever did.
Didn’t really care as long as Ansel was with him.
And wasn’t that some sappy shit.
Chapter Thirty-One
“That’s a big bag for a few condoms and lube,” Ansel said as they climbed the stairs to his apartment.
Fitch chuckled as dangerously as he could while trying not to wake Ansel’s neighbors. “Big plans require big bags.”
As he unlocked the door, Ansel looked over his shoulder. “Big plans?”
Fitch crowded into him and nuzzled his ear. “Very big, Angel. We’re going to give this place a proper goodbye by christening every room.”
Fitch crossed the threshold and set the bag on the kitchen counter. As soon as he turned around Ansel was on him, long arms circling his neck so their mouths mashed together.
“I like the way you think,” Ansel huffed between kisses. “Couldn’t get you out of my head all night. I felt you watching me.” He shivered and bit Fitch’s bottom lip. “So hot.”
Fitch groaned and crushed Ansel snug to his front.
“It was hell, trying to keep my hands off you.” To punctuate his words he squeezed Ansel’s ass with both hands and ground his cock into his hip.
Ansel moaned. “Fuck me.”
“Get your pants off,” he ordered, slapping Ansel’s side before tugging his own shirt over his head.
Ansel didn’t waste time. His shaky fingers unfastened the snap and zipper while he kicked out of the heels. In no time Ansel stood in a pair of pink lace booty shorts and a loose white T-shirt that had Femme on Purpose scrawled over a hand flipping the bird. As always, he was armored with chains and bracelets and rings that glittered in the light coming from the lamp hanging over the table.
Ansel rested a hand on his hip. “Now what, Grumpy Bear?” The slow, flirtatious blink tightened Fitch’s balls with need.
The well of patience he’d relied on all night completely evaporated. He tugged Ansel around the corner to the couch and unbuttoned his jeans. Sitting, Fitch freed his aching cock and squeezed it in a fist. This round would need to be fast and dirty. He didn’t have the restraint for romance.
“Open yourself for me, Angel, then sit on my cock.”
Ansel pulled off his lace shorts before pawing through the bag. He cracked up laughing. “Sliquid Sassy? Where the hell did you find this?”
Fitch shot him a grin. “Got lucky at the store, thought it suited you.”
Ansel flipped open the cap. With a sultry look in his eyes, he straddled Fitch’s hips. “I guess I have a new favorite lube,” he whispered. Fitch found the box of condoms and tore one open while Ansel prepped himself. By the time he was done rolling on the latex, Ansel was biting his lip and moving into position. He clutched Fitch’s bare shoulder and sank onto his cock with one smooth move and a long, lewd groan.
“God, Angel.”
“Mmm, so good.”
Ansel ground his pelvis in little circles, seemingly unconcerned, or maybe delighted, that the lip of his cockhead kept catching on Fitch’s abs.
Bombs went off in Fitch’s brain at the friction, but he held on enough to pull Ansel into a kiss. He slid his hands under Ansel’s shirt and felt the muscles of his back flex each time he lifted his hips. Fitch would never get used to how strong Ansel was beneath the delicate exterior, how graceful. Every time he moved, Fitch had to catch his breath, and not only when he was buried so deep inside the heat he could feel his lover’s pulse.
“God, Fitch.” Ansel pressed his forehead to Fitch’s as he rose and fell, over and over again.
“Yeah, just like that, Angel.” He met each move in perfect harmony, folding Ansel close so he could feel the strong heartbeat against his ribs.
It was rough. It was frenzied. It was exactly what they both needed. They held each other, breaths mingling, lips kissing, as their bodies whipped the pleasure higher and higher.