Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I push onto my knees, take his dick into my hand and jerk him while I fuck him. Dusty’s eyes roll back. The combination of his body around my dick and the fullness in my ass pushes me closer and closer to the edge.
When he arches forward, hole spasming around me, cum spurting from his balls, up his shaft and to his belly, I let go, dive off the edge with him, shooting everything from my nuts inside his body.
I lie down on top of Dusty, sticky sweat making our skin cling together. Pressing my lips to his neck, his chest, I kiss him over and over again.
“How’s your hole?” he asks, patting my ass.
“Full.” I chuckle, then roll off him. Dusty sits up and pulls the plug out of me. I shift uncomfortably when he does it, my body tender and sensitive.
“We’ll deal with it later.” He sets it on the package, both of us on our sides now, watching each other. As much as I want to close my eyes and let go, my brain is spinning with too many thoughts for that to be possible.
The exploring we’ve been doing, Dusty with his friends, his business, his parents and the dinners we share and how close they are. How much he loves them.
How much he loves me, to the point that Dusty would do any-fucking-thing for me.
And I said that I would do anything for him too, but have I proved that? Not even to him, but to myself. “I think we should stay here,” falls from my mouth. I wait for my brain to tell me I should recall the words, change my mind, but that doesn’t happen.
“What do you mean?” His brows draw together.
“I don’t think we should move to Santa Monica. I think we should stay here…together.” My heart batters my chest wall.
“You hate it here.”
“I love you and—”
“No.” Dusty shakes his head and sits up. “I’m not doing that. We’re not staying here, somewhere you don’t want to be, just for me. You’ll resent me for it, and all it will do is come between us.”
Damn stubborn man. I sit up too. “But I can drag you away from your home? Your family? Your business? And take you somewhere you don’t want to be, yet you won’t resent me for it?”
He looks away. “Maybe I won’t hate it.”
No, maybe he won’t, but… “You won’t love it, Dust. Not the way you love it here, and what do I have in Santa Monica that I have to go back to? I don’t have a home. I don’t have close friends I care about other than Spencer, and our friendship would last through a move. I have a job, but it’s not my passion the way your shop is for you. Your family is here.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “East is here for me too. I’ve enjoyed spending time with my brother. I want to keep building our relationship, and…maybe things will change with Rhett too.”
“I can’t ask you to do that for me. I know the memories you have that plague you here.”
“They plague me in Santa Monica too,” I admit. “And being here with you again has reminded me that I have happy memories here as well. Our hiking trips, exploring with you. I had fun doing those things. It’s so fucking beautiful here…” I cup the side of his head, let my hand travel through his hair. “You’re beautiful here. Seeing you laugh with Archer and Cass tonight. Watching everyone stop and talk to you when we walk through the grocery store because everyone knows and loves you. Seeing you work with my brother. Birchbark is in your bones, Dust, and the truth is, it’s in mine too. But nothing is inside me the way you are. I want to make you happy.”
He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine. “Just being with you makes me happy. I don’t care where it is.”
Not now, but he would one day. “I talked to Spencer, and do you know what he told me? That I sound good…better than he’s ever heard me sound. I can’t stop thinking about that, and it’s because I’m shocked it’s true. Part of it is having you, of course, but it’s also being here with you. Let me give us this. I need to do this.” It’s not until the last sentence is out that I realize it: I need this. For him. For us. Maybe for me too.
“What will you do?” Our foreheads still kiss, his breath against my lips.
“Be your man. I’ll figure out the rest.”
Dusty’s lips smash against mine, and his arms encircle me, pulling me close—yes and thank you and I love you in the fierceness of his kiss.
He pushes me down until I’m lying on my back, before settling on top of me.