Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“Yeah.”
Fuck, Cillian tried not to get caught staring too long, but it was hard not to. Brendan’s body was so tight he could have stood for an anatomical study, no detail of any single muscle left to guesswork, every fine striation crafted in perfect lines of deep, rich golden-brown accented by the darker, dusky brown of small, flat nipples. He just wanted to look, to memorize every line of Brendan, and Cillian…
Cillian thought he just might be infatuated.
Fuck, his dick was going to get him in so much trouble.
He glanced away, pushing his hair back. “Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. And took up space in your bed.”
“It’s a big bed. I wasn’t exactly falling out.” Brendan yawned again before slumping, eyes slipping closed as he turned his face toward the windows, the morning sun. “You feeling any better after some rest?”
“…yeah. I don’t know why I just…nevermind. I don’t want to talk about him.” He sighed. “Though I…guess I should take it as a hint. I’m not ready for this. Not until it’s not so new or fresh.”
“So take your time. I know you’re not planning to stay in Hollywood, but you’ve got at least several months before we finish filming, maybe up to a year. And if you want to try again…” Brendan shrugged lazily, one arm draping over his face, exposing the soft bristle of dark hair beneath one arm. “…I need time, too. To figure out how to do this. I guess I’m a little more old-fashioned than I thought. So maybe we should try it the vanilla way, once you’re comfortable. And then work up to the rest.”
“I…what.” Cillian descended into some of the weirdest noises he’d ever made in his life. “Are you—wait, now you want to just…you know…have sex with me? Not just help me figure that stuff out?”
Brendan’s lips curled faintly. “You sound more shocked than when I agreed to pretend to rape you.”
“Well…yes! You—I—that was one thing, helping me with something specific, but…”
“…this is still the same thing,” Brendan said. “It’s just acknowledging that I need time to work up to it, too. It’s not something I can just dive into without studying the role a little.” With a sleepy, downright animalistic rumble, Brendan rolled over, his body moving with such taut, rolling fluidity that he nearly poured onto his side, hips following in a suggestive twist before he settled facing Cillian, half-closed eyes watching him. “We might as well be seen in public together anyway. Go out a few times. Get used to each other, so we’re not fumbling so much with this casual sex thing.”
Cillian cocked his head. That just…wasn’t…quite going in, he… “…isn’t that…basically real dating? Where does that start being fake?”
“It’s a means to an end. If we’re going to do this, we can at least relax about it.”
With a glare, Cillian snagged a pillow and threw it at Brendan’s chest. “You could at least act like you care one way or the other that it’s me.”
Brendan caught the pillow and immediately settled it under his head. “Wait. Are you upset with me now?”
“No! …yes? I just…you’re so…” Cillian blew out, puffing his hair away from his face. “I don’t even know if you like me.”
“I don’t dislike you,” Brendan replied mildly, and Cillian snagged at the pillow, trying to tug it away just so he could throw it at Brendan again.
“That’s just it,” Cillian growled, while Brendan held effortlessly on to the pillow. “I don’t need you to be madly in love with me, but is there anything you’re even attracted to about me? Or are you fine with just a warm body?”
Especially when even right now, Brendan was treating this entire tryst like a problem to be methodically solved instead of something Cillian was so completely and utterly mortified over?
“Hm.” Brendan’s eyes slipped almost fully closed; he appeared to be giving the matter great thought, so much that he could only be being an arse—and with a frustrated sound, Cillian shoved the pillow against his chest.
…not the best idea. Because with Brendan Lau, he was starting to learn:
For every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction.
And the next thing he knew, Brendan surged over him, tumbling him back and pinning him to the bed with his weight; with the sleepy morning scent of him, heavy and as drugging as an aphrodisiac. Heated skin slid against him as Brendan stretched out atop Cillian, the contours of their bodies finding every last point of give and take until they fit together so closely that when Brendan breathed in, his chest pushed against the sudden sinking of Cillian’s as Cillian exhaled in a rush.
He stared up at Brendan with his gut twisting wildly; the morning sun made a halo behind Brendan’s head, reflecting off his sleep-tumbled black hair and falling into the darkness of his eyes.