Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“It was just too much too fast.” Truth. “I’ve hated you for years and then it was...” So perfect. The best night of my life. Soul deep and scary as hell.
“Yeah.” Rafe exhaled. “I get it. It’s weird for me too.”
Weird wasn’t the word Hop would have used. It wasn’t even close, which just went to show how far apart they’d been last night, even though it had felt like they’d been reformed into a single lifeform.
He’d known it was too good to be true. Still, he hummed his agreement because explaining how deeply he’d been moved would mean cracking open his insides and letting Rafe dig around in them.
“This is why I normally stick to professionals.”
Hop looked at his profile—long, aristocratic nose, sharp square jaw, a tan that never seemed to fade and thick eyebrows. He was far too handsome for his own good. There was no way he had trouble picking up dates.
Rafe must have sensed the inspection because he glanced over with a self-deprecating smirk. “Professional submissives, I pay for the honor of controlling them for a time. It’s safe and confidential.”
“Oh.” He could see how the confidential part would be important to a man like Rafe. Still, his imagination conjured a stereotypical image of a dungeon with Rafe wearing leather and standing over a small girl bound and gagged. It just didn’t fit Rafe at all. It was so wrong it was almost comical.
“Our history and the emotions that go with them would be something we’d have to navigate even if we were just working together.” Rafe shrugged.
“I guess.” The conversation he’d had with his mother the night before came back to him. For so long, he’d felt broken, a strange child without a father who was wrong in every way, but last night with Rafe he’d felt whole for the first time in his life.
He hadn’t felt lost.
He hadn’t felt alone.
More than anything, he wanted to feel that way again, but this was Rafe Marson. Could Hop really trust him?
Could he give Rafe this gift and survive?
Before the universe gave him an answer, they arrived at the shop. Rafe pulled over but didn’t shut off the engine.
“Thanks for the ride.” Hop was already halfway out the door.
Rafe handed him the coffee. “I know you haven’t touched yourself.”
“So?”
“Come home with me tonight. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t make promises.”
“Just, think about it. After your show, come up to my office. I’ll be waiting.”
Like there was any possibility Hop would be able to think about anything else for the rest of the day. He shut the car door and heard the rumble of the engine as he trudged through the snow into the shop. It didn’t matter how insane it was, how certain the loss, because the lure was too strong.
He’d just have to lock his stupid dreams away, cage his wounded heart, and enjoy the freedom of being at Rafe’s feet.
Chapter Twenty-One
The clock mocked him.
Rafe glared at the minute hand as it snapped into place, marking the passing of another hour with a hollow reverberation. He’d been more than patient and now it was well after midnight. The Sassy Boyz’ last performance ended long ago. Maybe it was time to come to terms with reality.
Hop wasn’t coming.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose to dissuade the budding headache. Fuck, he’d been so sure. The desire in Hop’s eyes that morning had been obvious; he hadn’t been wrong about that. There’d been no doubt in his mind Hop would show up.
Now he felt like a fool.
How could he have been so wrong? It pricked his ego. The temptation to use his position to get what he wanted just like his mentor had taught him was strong—but he wasn’t that guy.
He would never be that guy.
Being the good guy in a bad world was hard fucking work, especially in circles where money counted more than integrity. Rafe brushed his five o’clock shadow with his knuckles as the dangerous urge passed.
He’d made his position clear. If Hop didn’t want to jump into the deep end, Rafe couldn’t really blame him. It stung, sure, but he told himself it was just a pinprick compared to what might’ve been.
He should feel grateful. Hop had likely saved them both a lot of trouble.
He kept telling himself that as he cleaned up his desk, shut down his computer, and locked his office door. It was the song he sang as he made his way out of the club, waving a tired hand at Mark near the bar. It was the background noise to the crunching of snow beneath his feet and the splatter of slush as traffic drove past. It was the ringing in his ears as he turned the corner into the parking lot.
It was the warning siren he ignored as he found Hop leaning against the car door.