Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
I couldn’t tell from here. I saw but a sliver of the shower room.
“Well, it looks to me like you’re giving him a show,” I couldn’t help but mutter.
He let out a chuckle and pulled up his leg, resting his knee against the next bench. “It wasn’t a complaint.”
Oh, but I should complain—at his blatant display.
“I take it you’re not a stranger to picking up men at the gym.” I’d seen it go down once or twice. We did have a fair number of gay men who came here.
Jack shrugged a little and shifted his hands to his thigh. “It happens.” He poured more oil onto his skin. “What about you, Mr. Not Looking For Anything Serious? Where do you pick up your men?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I have a better question. How can my thirty-two-year-old nephew stumble upon my dating profile when I’ve restricted mine to men between thirty-five and fifty-five?”
His eyes flashed with wicked mischief. “Because I lie about my age.”
That made no sense. “Why?”
“Do you know how difficult it is to be younger and dominant?”
Oh no.
“Too many seem to be under the impression that old means dominant, younger means submissive,” he went on. “Once they meet me, there’s no doubt. But online, everyone has their own idea of how things should be.”
Take me out of here. He was into kink. A notion that wasn’t too surprising, considering how he was, but it still filled me with dread and embarrassment and heat and inappropriate fantasies, and I needed to fucking leave.
What I didn’t need was to stay here and keep staring, and that was exactly what I was doing. Why couldn’t I stop? Why couldn’t I look away from his hands as they slipped lower to his abs?
“Maybe you do know.” His fingertips ghosted closer to where the neatly trimmed hair around his cock began. “I’m guessing older men who are submissive face similar issues.”
He knew. Either he’d made guesses based on my behavior, or he’d looked up Mclean House.
Perhaps it was a combination of both.
Fresh perspiration trickled down my temples.
My heart started beating faster.
Jack knew what I was into, and he knew what he was doing right now. He was giving more than one man a show.
My throat was suddenly parched. Each breath was hot and sharp because of the temperature, and my body felt entirely disconnected from the muted chaos raging in my head. I couldn’t pick a single emotion and stick with it. I couldn’t decipher any of it. Other than lust. The carnal needs.
When he rubbed the residue of the oil into his cock and perfectly smooth balls, I didn’t know what to do with myself. There was nothing discreet about what he was doing, nor was there anything discreet about my staring.
Sweet Jesus.
I wanted to worship every inch of his body.
I wanted to kneel before him and suck his cock.
“You like to watch too, don’t you?” he murmured.
Yes.
Shame and embarrassment danced with the wildfire of desperate excitement. I couldn’t form a single word, but I forced myself to nod a little.
He was doing this to me.
He was the one crossing the line.
He was the one growing hard—God, so hard—less than five feet away from me.
His skin looked golden in the dim light, no longer glistening, but… The oil was sinking into his skin and making it look so soft and smooth.
“Do you like my cock, Uncle Franklin?”
Kill me.
I shuddered and tried to swallow. “I do.”
He exhaled and gave up the pretense of just massaging the oil into his skin. He started stroking himself, and he never looked away from me.
“Open your towel for me,” he ordered quietly. “If we want Gramps out there to see me get off before he’s got company, I need something to look at.”
Holy—something.
A strong buzz of anticipation ran through me, and I hurried to undo my towel and expose my semi-hard cock. To my nephew. Oh God. This was so wrong and so deliciously indecent.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Nice and big. Part your legs a little too. I wanna see your balls.”
I could only obey him. I sat with my thighs a little wider and cupped my balls, tugging at them.
“That’s it,” he moaned. “Fuck, I wanna come on your face.”
I sucked in a breath, the heat so tangible that I coughed. With my heart thundering in my rib cage, I didn’t think; I fucking couldn’t. I just slipped down to the first bench and moved closer to him. And he immediately twisted his body toward me.
“Yeah?” he breathed. “You want it? Come here.” His fingers disappeared into my hair, and he held me in place as he used his other hand to stroke his cock a few inches from my face. “You’re a dream come true, Unc,” he rasped. “A fifteen-year-old dream. I’m almost there.”
I let the disbelief at this happening sweep me away.