Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“Where are they?” Cash asks.
I blink away dazed thoughts about Cy to frown at Cash. Though he won’t understand, I sign out the question, What?
Irritation flashes in his green eyes. “The dogtags I gave you. Where are they?”
I shrug and give a half-hearted point toward Cy’s room.
“Go get them.”
His sharp, commanding words make me stiffen. Gone is the sweet, flirty expression, and a hard one replaces it.
I can’t, I sign to him. He must understand because his scowl deepens.
“Does…Does Cy have them?”
I give him a clipped nod, wincing at his clenching jaw and furious expression. With nostrils flaring, he turns on his heel and storms out. What the fuck is wrong with him? I stalk after him to find him squatted in front of Van, whispering something to him. Van sits up, grimacing slightly at the pain, but then his eyes lock on me.
“We’re going home,” Cash grumbles to Rey. “In case Wyatt comes back.”
“Not a good idea,” Judd booms. “You need to stay here where it’s safe.”
Van shoots Judd a sour look. “We’ll be fine. Mind giving us a ride, though?”
I dart Cash a questioning look, pleading for him to just talk to me. I get it. Those dogtags were important to him, but Cy will give them back. It’s just been a weird twenty-four hours. I don’t understand why he’s getting all pissy about it.
Judd and Cash manage to get Van on his feet. Together, they leave the cabin. Cash won’t so much as look at me. Frustrated by his sudden attitude, I shoot him a text.
Me: I’m sorry. I’ll get them back for you.
Several minutes later, he responds back.
Cash: Okay.
A sigh escapes me at his one-word answer.
Me: Don’t be mad.
Cash: I just feel like I have to compete with my boyfriend’s dad.
His entire text has me recoiling. Quickly, I hammer out a reply.
Me: Cy is not my dad and I’m not your boyfriend. We’re friends.
Cash: Friends don’t want to suck each other off.
Last night, I might have agreed. Right now, I feel like arguing with him. To tell him I don’t want to suck anyone off right now except Cy. As horrible as it sounds in my head, I can’t find it in me to care.
Me: Keep me posted if you hear from Wyatt.
I’m not going to play games with Cash. Fatigue makes my bones ache. I should crawl into my bed and nap, but all I can think about is getting back into Cy’s bed. Since Rey has left the living room and is banging around in the kitchen now, I do just that. I head back to Cy’s room, following his unique, masculine pine and sage scent that makes my body thrum with excitement.
As if I’m spellbound by being in his space, I can’t help but fling off my shirt and then shove off my sweats. I crawl into his massive bed, slipping beneath the covers and rolling around in his scent. I’m desperate to have it cling to me so that it’s all I can smell.
My phone buzzes from my pocket on the floor, but I ignore it, taking my half erect dick in my palm. Slowly, I fist it until it’s aching with need, leaking pre-cum at the tip. Dirty images of Cy prowling over me, his capable tongue and lips kissing my dick like he kissed me, simmer in my mind. With each passing second, the simmer turns into a boil that turns into a raging inferno of lust. I can’t keep a lid on it. I’m able to shield my desire from the others, but somehow Cy feels it. I feel that he feels it.
Almost home.
His booming words echo around inside my mind. I want the heat of them on my neck, but different words. Whispers of how he wants me, craves me, fucking aches for me like I’ve been doing for him. I want him to nip at my lips and trail kisses down my chest on a path to my dick. I’m not sure I want an explanation of what’s happening to me because then I might have some way to control it. To stop it. The selfish part of me doesn’t want to. I want to let it transform and grow into whatever it’s trying so desperately to.
This feels natural.
A progression into…something.
I harness it and let it lead me. Follow the urges, not bothering to resist them. All thoughts and desires point toward him. Cy. It’s maddening to comprehend, but I don’t try to. I just let it happen. I immerse myself in images of Cyrus Hames. I drown in them. Let them swallow me whole. It’s not until hot ropes of cum splatter on my naked chest do I realize I’ve stroked myself to release. In Cy’s bed. To thoughts of Cy.
The bedroom door thrusts open, a growl echoing in with it. Cy stands in the doorway, breathing heavily, eyes dilated with lust and need that matches my own. My cock jolts, filling again with blood and hardening. His gaze narrows as he scrutinizes every minute detail of me in his bed. My heart rate speeds up when his pink tongue darts out to drag across his bottom lip.