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)
“Don’t stop,” Ansel said. “Oh fuck.” Faster and faster, sweat beaded on his pale skin, he smashed his mouth to Fitch’s. Their tongues thrusting in time with the pistoning of their hips. Their hearts thudding so loudly it was like the music of the club. Ansel’s fantastic sex noises grew to a peak and suddenly his sandwiched cock twitched and coated Fitch’s stomach in a sticky, wet, glorious mess.
He gripped Ansel’s ass and pounded up, once, twice, then followed his dancer into the abyss with a groan.
* * *
Ansel rested his head on Fitch’s shoulder, savoring the way those strong arms held him secure. He closed his eyes and drifted on clouds as his body regained its equilibrium. Every fucking time with Fitch was better than the time before. It was amazing and totally impossible. He felt Fitch’s lips on the bare skin near the collar of his shirt and pressed closer.
Then his stomach grumbled loud enough to shake the walls.
Fitch laughed. “Christ, are you dying?”
Ansel smiled and sat up. “Almost. I haven’t eaten since this morning. I’ve just been so strapped for time.”
One calloused palm rubbed his naked thigh. “How come? Are you working double shifts again?”
“No, I’ve just been busy.”
“Too busy to eat? So busy you missed a bunch of rehearsals? What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s awkward to talk about it with your dick shoved up my ass.” He moved off Fitch’s lap, carefully keeping the condom in place.
“There are wipes in the bag,” Fitch said, standing to remove the condom and toss it in the trash. He pushed off the jeans and reseated himself on the end of the couch wearing only his boxers. Ansel turned away and busied himself with the contents of the plastic sack as a distraction. The lube was pretty epic, he’d have to show the boys. They’d all die with giggle fits.
He found a cardboard cell phone box. “What’s this?”
Fitch looked up and his face transformed into one of embarrassed apprehension. “I, uh, well, yours got stolen. So...”
“Fitch—”
“I know. I know. You don’t need me to buy you stuff, but it’s really for me. I don’t like the thought of you without one. What if there’s an emergency? And anyway, it’s just a cheap burner. You can buy your own minutes, or get a package if you want. As long as I can get in touch, that’s all I care about.”
Ansel bit his lip and shook his head. “I was going to say thank you.”
“Oh.” Fitch’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Angel.”
Setting the box aside with a wary look, Ansel pulled out the wipes and cleaned himself up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful. He needed a phone and it was sweet of Fitch to get him one. He just wasn’t used to anyone taking care of him.
“So, tell me what’s been going on that you haven’t had time to eat.”
Ansel pulled his lace shorts back on. It was one thing to be emotionally vulnerable, it was another to be naked at the same time.
He hadn’t gotten to the point in his recovery where it was easy to admit his faults. But Fitch should know, if they were going to try to make this relationship work.
He sat on the opposite end of the couch and tucked his knees to his chin. “Um, I’ve started going to meetings. You know, for AA.” He focused on a loose thread on the back of the couch. “I’m an alcoholic.” He held his breath for a beat before swallowing the embarrassment the confession still caused. It was only the second time he’d said those words aloud and they burned.
Fitch’s fingers brushed his and stilled his nervous thread-pulling. “Wow, that’s big.”
“Yep.”
“It takes a lot of courage to admit something like that, Angel. You are really fucking brave.”
He finally lifted his face and tangled his fingers with Fitch’s. “I’m trying to be.”
All he saw in Fitch’s face was acceptance and it made him feel cleansed. The band around his chest loosened, and gratitude rinsed some of the grime off his spirit.
“By the way, how’s your dad?”
“It looks like he’ll be fine. Stubborn old coot.”
“That’s great.” Ansel tickled the hair on Fitch’s forearm.
“I also, sort of, told my sister I was dating a guy.”
“Really? But—”
“I know, perfect timing, right? Just when we break up, I finally spill my guts. I guess I’m not a great actor because my family saw right through me.”
Ansel pressed his lips together and fought the self-reproach. The past was the past. He couldn’t change what happened so he shouldn’t dwell on it either. “What did she say?”
“She was confused, but supportive.” Fitch paused before adding, “I think my mom might suspect too. I’m going to tell them tomorrow after church.”
“Are you sure? What if they don’t take it well? I know your parents accepted your sister, but this is different.” He was their only son, their heir. Fitch was supposed to take over the family business and continue the family name. It was more than likely his parents would not take the news well. And for someone like Ansel? Even worse.