Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“I’m losing my damned mind,” he complained right before moaning again. “Please. Please.”
I chuckled darkly around his cock. Trying new ways to make him beg, I softly stroked his balls with my free hand.
“Oh, fuck, not that too. I’m gonna…”
“No, you’re not. Not yet.” I stopped the second he warned me, using only the tip of my tongue to lap up the fresh drops of precome. I went featherlight for a bit, keeping us both hanging on the edge. My abs tightened, and my cock would have a zipper print for a week, but Worth tasted far too good to stop.
“Get close again,” I ordered.
“Not sure…” Worth took several shuddery breaths. I swallowed as much of his cock as I dared while jacking him hard and fast. “Oh, there. There.”
“Now. Come. Right now.” I took one last long lick, then switched to jacking alone, tugging up his T-shirt so his come painted his belly, big spurts that left white streaks across his pale skin. Marking him.
“Fuck. So sexy.” I pushed my left hand against my dick, but it was too late. I was already coming in short, intense, almost painful waves. I wrenched my fly open, and the cool air on my cock teased out one last spurt. “That was so hot.”
Spent, I rested my head on his thigh.
“Did you seriously come from blowing me?” Worth’s eyes were wide, pupils blown with pleasure, and his lower lip sported fresh teeth marks.
“Told you I was going to like it.” My smug tone made us both laugh.
“Guess I better trust you more.”
“You should.” I went back to being stern. “Trust that I love you. Trust that I love making you feel good.”
“I’m working on it.” He stroked my hair. “I am. I love you. So much.”
“Not as much as I love you.” I teased, but he frowned.
“It’s not a competition.”
“Everyone wins.” I snorted because we were getting darn good at the simultaneous orgasm thing.
“Especially us.” His voice was tender, and I glanced up. His expression revealed so much emotion that my breath caught. How long had I waited to see that kind of love from another? From Worth, specifically? That was the real win: his love, deep and true.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Worth
I barely made it to trivia night on time. The week had flown by with booming business at the coffee shop, and neither Sam nor I was complaining about the increased workload. I’d had a late-afternoon therapy appointment, so Sam and I had planned to arrive separately to the event. I’d assumed he’d beat me there, so I was a little surprised to be there before him.
I greeted Monroe, Knox, Holden, and Cal, and saved the seat next to me for Sam.
“We’re going to need a bigger table soon,” Holden joked as we debated which appetizers and drinks to get. Alcohol messed with both my stomach and depression meds, so I stuck with a lemon-lime soda and lobbied for some of the milder appetizers to balance the wings and fried pickles.
Shortly after we placed our order, Sam came rushing in, breathless and more than a little dazed.
“There you are.” Monroe greeted Sam as he slid into the chair between me and Monroe who was across from Knox, Cal, and Holden. “Everything okay at the shop?”
“More than. Business is amazing. We were busy right up until close. We’ll be able to easily add fall evening hours.”
“Great to hear.” Holden smiled broadly.
“Are you really okay?” Using a low voice, I leaned in toward Sam. “I thought you were planning to let George and Marta close.”
“I did.” Sam wiggled his jaw like he were debating whether to tell me something. “I got sidetracked, but nothing to worry about right now.”
“That sounds ominous.” Holden didn’t even pretend to not be listening in. The appetizers and drinks arrived right then, and I let Sam get settled with a water and some fried pickles.
“Five minutes!” The trivia host at the front of the pub gave a warning that the first round was about to start.
“You told me not to worry, but I’m worried,” I admitted to Sam as I picked at a chicken strip.
“You don’t need to worry.” Sam patted my arm. “I was late because I got a phone call.” He took a moment for a breathy inhale. “From the social worker working on my application to be a foster parent.”
“Oh?” The whole table spoke in unison, everyone leaning toward Sam. I wasn’t the only one who knew how badly Sam wanted to fill the house with kids.
“She might have a placement for me. Brothers. But there’s a catch.” Sam pursed his lips, and I knew exactly what the issue was.
“Me?” I asked but didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s me living there. I’m the catch. They need a background check?”
“That, and the powers that be would be more comfortable, whatever that means, if I didn’t have a roommate.” Sam’s expression further soured, nose wrinkling and eyes narrowing. “Which is silly because you’re so much more than a roommate.”