Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I can call him a cab,” Kian states, popping up beside me like a twinky stalker. “Kind of my responsibility.”
My shoulders tense as I stare down the smaller man who’s putting off possessive vibes over my man.
Not my man.
“Not necessary,” I grit out. “He’s the best bud I’ve met since I got here. There’s been plenty of times he’s looked after me. I can do this for him.”
I’m hoping my words convince them he’s my regular buddy, not my fuckbuddy.
“Stop talking like I’m not here,” Jax grumbles. “I’m hungry. Who wants pancakes?”
Hank and Brie laugh while Kian rolls his eyes.
“That’s our cue to leave, Sheriff.” I stand and help him to his feet. “Ready?”
I fish out some cash and hand it to Kian, making sure the tip is generous. “I’ve got his tab covered.”
Kian’s face is red and his glare is fiery enough to melt a glacier, but I’m not intimidated by him. When Jax sways slightly, Hank comes to the rescue.
“Let’s get him out of here before the whole town starts talking,” Hank grumbles. “The last thing we need is them thinking he’s an incompetent sheriff.”
Agreeing, I nod and accept his help. We manage to get him outside, the two not drunk men shivering against the cold while the drunk is howling at the moon like he’s a wolf.
“Jesus,” I complain. “How much did Kian give you to drink?”
As he starts spouting off numbers trying to remember, Hank and I get him inside my Range Rover.
“Thanks, man,” I say to Hank.
He offers me a quick head nod and then runs back inside where it’s warm. I climb into the front seat and get the car started.
“I want pancakes,” Jax says again. “A huge fucking stack of them. And a to-go bag for my cat.”
His cat?
“How about we get you to your house and we’ll see what you have?”
He’s quiet as I drive. I sneak peeks at him to find him staring at me with such unguarded emotion. It’s unnerving. Makes me feel things I have no business feeling.
I pull into his driveway and shut off the car. He’s already climbing out before I can get unbuckled. By the time I reach him, he’s stumbling toward the front door.
“Come on, drunk ass,” I grumble. “Let’s get you inside.”
We make our way into the house. Sure enough, a one-eyed cat greets us, meowing up a storm, circling our feet.
“I missed you too, Pirate,” Jax croons to that cat. Ox huffs from his favorite spot by the back door.
“I can’t believe you got a cat.”
“Cato made me.” He pouts. “My cat is the shit, though. She loves me.”
I sort of toss Jax onto the couch and make my way into the kitchen where the cat follows me. Jax doesn’t have stuff for pancakes, so I settle for some Eggo waffles in the freezer. After I toast and butter them, I pour syrup on them and bring the plate out to Jaxon.
He’s no longer on the couch.
I set the plate down as he reenters the living room. My mouth goes dry. I rake my gaze over his bare chest, taking in all his nakedness besides a fitted pair of white boxers that leave nothing to the imagination.
Fuck. This. Man.
He’s too good-looking. It drives me insane.
“Food,” I rasp out. “Eat it.”
His dark eyes flash with hunger, but I’d bet my left nut it’s not for waffles. I shed my coat before sitting next to him on the couch. Pirate jumps up on my coat, curling into an orange ball that’s no doubt going to leave a trail of cat hair. Jax really must’ve been hungry because he practically inhales the waffles. Once they’re gone, his gaze finds mine.
“Jax,” I start, but I’m cut off when he pounces on me.
Pirate meows in irritation before scampering down the hall to the bedroom.
He straddles my waist, his lips crashing to mine. I groan, getting lost in the sweetness that is him. My palms find his ass, squeezing, as I urge him to grind against my aching dick. His tongue tastes like syrup and I’m so fucking hungry for it.
“Want you,” he rumbles against my lips. “Inside me.”
I freeze at his words.
I certainly misheard.
“Dante.” He pulls back, lust-filled brown eyes boring into me. “Please.”
“You’re, uh, drunk. I can’t do that. You’ll regret it tomorrow.”
He scowls. “I’m drunk, but I know what I want. I’m not unconscious. I want you to fuck me, big city man.”
I slide my hands beneath the band of his underwear, grabbing the firm globes of his ass. “I really, really want to, Jax, but it wouldn’t be right.”
“I’m fine to fuck,” he snaps. “That is, unless you really don’t want to fuck and this is an excuse not to.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He pulls back, fire burning in his stare. “Maybe I should just go to bed. Alone.”