Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Then, he stepped closer and cupped Zach’s cheek with his hand.
Zach stiffened.
It was so quiet here. Or was their breathing just that loud?
Leaning in, Tristan brushed his lips against Zach’s clean-shaven jaw. Zach’s body went rigid with tension. Inhaling shallowly, Tristan dragged his quivering lips across Zach’s chin, feeling Zach’s ragged, hot breath on his skin. He stopped when their lips were an inch apart.
A beat passed.
Tristan smiled and whispered, “Fuck you, Zach.”
When he pulled away, the withering look Zach shot him was almost worth his weak knees and raging hard-on. Almost.
“Your touching concern for your brother is duly noted,” he grated out before stalking off.
Chapter 21
As Tristan disappeared out of sight, Zach closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together.
He had managed to stay away for the past eight days and now the brat had undone all the hard work with one not-quite-touch. Zach grimaced. The fact that he knew exactly how many days it had been was bloody ridiculous. He was thirty years old. A grown man, not a schoolboy. It shouldn’t have been such a struggle to keep away.
But it was.
He used to consider himself a rational, cool-headed man. Used to. He had thought it would be easier when Tristan was no longer around to drive him crazy, but it was actually worse. Because when Tristan had been around, he could at least blame his weakness on Tristan’s pretty eyes, and lips, and that maddening smirk. With the boy out of sight, Zach had no excuse for thinking about him non-stop, wanting to see him, and just wanting. He had found himself thinking of Tristan’s scowling lips whenever he jerked off, and remembering the way those aquamarine eyes got glazed with need when Zach moved inside of him.
For fuck’s sake. It had been eight days. He hadn’t seen Donna in over a month while she was in China and he’d barely thought of her.
Donna.
Zach sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to their conversation. Of course he wasn’t going to lie to her, but even thinking about explaining this thing to Donna made him wish she hadn’t returned from China yet. He knew she had noticed straight away back at the airport that his mood was off. She hadn’t called him out on it, but she had been observing him thoughtfully. She knew him; of course she hadn’t missed how agitated he was.
Taking a deep breath and glancing down to make sure his arousal wasn’t noticeable, Zach followed Tristan downstairs.
“Something wrong?” Donna murmured, touching his arm. She pulled him toward the kitchen, clearly wishing to talk. She stopped when he didn’t budge. “Zach?”
“Let’s watch the movie,” he said, pulling her toward the unoccupied couch.
“Oh, come on!” Nick said with an eye-roll. “We don’t need babysitters. We promise not to spill things on your couch if you leave us alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a grin.
Zach clenched his fingers into a fist.
Donna chuckled. “Don’t look at me. Blame your brother.”
“You heard that, right?” Nick said, giving Zach the get-the-hell-out-of-here-and-stop-cockblocking-me look.
Zach chose to pretend he didn’t understand it. “This is my house,” he said, making his way to the mini-bar to pull out two beer bottles. He opened them and returned to the couch. “If you don’t like my rules, go somewhere else.”
“Okay,” Nick said slowly.
Nick and Donna shared a look.
Zach pretended not to notice and handed Donna one of the bottles.
“So what are we watching?” Donna asked, trying to break the sudden tension in the room.
Nick said something and Donna laughed and said something back.
Tristan didn’t make a sound.
Zach took a seat beside Donna, focused his eyes on the screen, and tried to relax.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” Donna murmured, keeping her voice low, though he didn’t know why she bothered: their voices were masked by the sound of explosions.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that we’re watching an action flick—and you hate action flicks—with your little brother and his boyfriend, and we could have been doing something far more interesting.” Her fingers ran down his chest lightly. “You’re so tense. Did you get laid at all while I was away?”
“He’s not Nick’s boyfriend. He’s my former patient.”
Donna blinked and looked at him oddly.
“I know who he is,” she said after a moment. “Of course I know. What self-respecting sports journalist wouldn’t recognize Tristan DuVal? But they look pretty chummy to me. Look at them.”
Zach didn’t want to. But he had little choice now.
Nick had his arm draped over the back of the couch behind Tristan’s head, the tips of his fingers touching Tristan’s shoulder.
Zach’s grip on the bottle tightened.
“Zach?” she said.
Nick’s thumb was inches away from the spot below Tristan’s ear—the spot that made Tristan shiver and moan whenever Zach brushed his lips against it.
“Zach?”
Had Nick touched him there?
“Zach!” She pinched him.