Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He slid free of Cayson’s heat, his eyes fluttering at the over-sensitivity of his cock. “I want to get you in my bed. Come on.”
Cayson obeyed – again. They straightened their clothes; neither of them saying much, simply letting their blissed-out expressions say it all.
Cayson
It wasn’t a long drive to Quick’s place, but he’d kept his hand on Cayson’s thigh for the short duration. When Quick got to the last stop light before his neighborhood, he turned to face him, but Cayson was looking straight ahead, afraid of what he’d see if he looked at Quick.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Quick asked, tightening the squeeze on his leg.
Cayson nodded his head.
“You are? Because you’re awfully quiet.”
“Just thinking,” Cayson said solemnly.
“Care to share?”
“Not particularly.”
Quick laughed under his breath. “Okay, then. Can I ask something?”
“Shoot.”
“Is it bad thoughts… or good?”
Cayson finally turned to look him. His bright blue eyes were radiant even in the darkness of the truck. “It’s good mostly. And part terrifying.”
Quick turned into his driveway, pushing his remote to lift the garage door. He shut off the engine, and before Cayson could go for the door handle, Quick clamped a hand on the back of his neck to stop him. The touch was hotter than a brand, but he still closed his eyes and leaned into the hold.
“I think I know what you’re talking about.” Quick stroked Cayson’s firm jaw with his thumb while he kept up the light massage. “Why don’t we just let things progress naturally? However slow or fast that is, we just go with our gut. Do what feels good.”
Cayson nibbled on his bottom lip, thinking that over, and next thing he felt was Quick leaning in and sucking his tender lip into his own mouth, giving it his own assault. Quick ran the tip of his tongue along the opening of his mouth, teasing and flicking at him to open wider. It only took him a second to do what Quick wanted.
“You don’t have to worry, Cays. Not about me hurting you.” Quick’s voice was low and husky, like he was struggling keeping his own fears at bay.
“We haven’t discussed anything serious, Rome. Or exclusivity.”
“I already told you… you’re mine.”
Cayson stared at him, waiting to see deceit or malice. But there was none there. He prayed Quick was old enough to know what he wanted, because he didn’t have time for games. It was unfortunate that games were all Cayson had experienced in the minimal amount of time he’d had to date, but he hoped Quick was ready to show him the way romance was supposed to be. Just like their song said. Quick told him he’d married right out of high school, so he probably hadn’t carved a ton of notches in his headboard, but he didn’t need to sleep with a bunch of people to know how to treat someone he cared about. Right?
Cayson finally smiled, and Quick inched in for one more kiss. “Now. No more worrying about what ifs, okay.”
“Okay.” Cayson opened the door and pulled the seat up to grab his bags. He had Sunday off but he usually went through his upcoming cases. He’d need to borrow Quick’s office for a while. He blew a tired sigh. He had to stop fretting over nothing. Quick had practically forced him here, so he should accept that he wasn’t an imposition. Especially since he’d only just gotten there. Maybe Quick would enjoy him in his house as much as Cayson liked having the big lug in his space.
Quick opened the door which led into his laundry room. He had a newer model washer and dryer, and some products sitting on top of the machines. On the rows of shelves lining the opposite wall, were canned goods and other pantry items. Lots of green vegetables. So, he preferred Tide laundry detergent and had a thing for canned spinach. He was already learning so much about Quick and he’d only gotten ten feet inside his home.
“I like it when you smile. If it weren’t for the stubble, you’d almost look pretty.” Quick eased Cayson’s bag off his shoulder and took his hand, leading them through the long hallway into the living room. “Let’s put your stuff in the guest room and then we’ll decide on dinner.”
Quick was definitely a take-charge man and he found it easy to listen to him, do as he said. Joe had been annoyingly, unattractively bossy. Quick was the epitome of an alpha male, the one in the relationship who took out the trash and fixed the toilet. Cayson would bet his cable package consisted of all the sports channels and he was the kind of guy who never had a hand towel in his bathroom. Quick was the kind of man he’d stayed away from in high school and college. He guessed his neat khakis, collared shirt and wire-rimmed glasses weren’t a huge turn-on back then, and didn’t scream jock. What Quick saw in him, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure yet, but he did believe, now. That he turned the man on to some degree. He wasn’t as pessimistic as he’d been in the beginning.