Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
But his whereabouts no longer mattered, even though the wooden floor felt so clean and pleasant under his bare feet.
Struggling to find breath and increasingly agitated, he pressed his palms to his face to find it without a hint of stubble. His lips were narrow yet soft and plump. His small nose had a cute upturned tip. Even his hair was the wrong length and would have been so easy to grab, unlike the short crop he sported.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
He ran over to the wardrobe because that would be the logical place to keep a mirror. He swung open its door and—
Gunner screamed, because no other course of action would do at the sight in front of him. Caspian Brady stared back at him from the mirror, dressed in a gray pajama set worthy of a middle-aged man, and with his mid-length brown hair still messy from sleep. He was the perfect little twink, with smooth limbs and big blue eyes that shone like the Swarovski crystal pendant Gunner had gotten Sandy for Christmas when things had still worked between them. Breathless, Gunner leaned in, enchanted by the smooth texture of the skin on Caspian’s cheeks, which made him look way under his real age of twenty-three.
Did Caspian have to shave in order to achieve this boyish radiance, with rosy lips opening above a chin that had the faintest dip in the middle? When Gunner tested a smile, his fake grin turned real at the sight of adorable dimples. Whatever this messed-up dream was, he wasn’t in a hurry to wake up, so he stood still, captivated by his reflection.
As one of the smallest guys Gunner had ever met since his teens, Caspian was a source of fascination, and even though Gunner hated himself a little for what he’d gone along with at the gym, he’d have lied if he claimed he hadn’t been a little bit curious of the dick that went with the smooth twinky body.
With the stupidly cute grin still on his face, Gunner pushed down the pajama pants and bit his lip when he revealed the lovely pink cock he’d now get to ogle at his leisure. He was getting horny just thinking about being the one inside this body. Even Caspian’s—his balls were fuzzy like two tiny peaches.
He turned around to get a peek at his buttocks, and his ears went aflame when he pondered whether the rumors about Caspian were true. Did he really fuck around with men? Did he let them use this pert, hairless ass? Gunner pulled on one of the butt cheeks, and his brain stalled at all the things he could do in Caspian’s life. No one would expect him to make tough decisions, fight for dominance, or always make the first move. He was the prey. The temptation. A single wink of his jewel-like eyes would send guys into a frenzy and make them dream of pinning him down with their cocks.
A hot shiver shot up his spine, and his prick twitched as a ghost of hot breath made the baby hair at the back of his neck rise.
A sharp knock on the door froze him to the floor. He frantically adjusted his pajama pants, but with the cock already up and interested in Gunner’s secret fantasies, he made a dash for the bed and rolled into it to cover his crotch with the checkered comforter in the most boring navy shade of all.
“Yes?”
Oh, even his voice was perfect. Smooth and sweet like the expensive milk chocolate he’d once gotten for his birthday from Mr. and Mrs. Wagner.
But he didn’t get to focus on how it sounded, because the door opened, revealing a short man with graying hair cut in a tidy style. He wore slacks and a dress shirt, with the tie tucked between the buttons at the front, and as Gunner looked on, the resemblance between Caspian and the stranger was impossible to overlook.
“Morning, son! Your mother wants you at the breakfast table, so get up pronto,” Caspian’s father said with a wide smile that revealed that he also had dimples. He tapped both his hands against the doorframe, as if suggesting that he wasn’t moving without his son.
Gunner shifted under the covers, relieved that his boner was going down. “Oh-okay… I’ll be right with you,” he mumbled.
“It’s not like you to sleep in like this. But I guess last night was out of the ordinary. Right?” The man raised his eyebrows expectantly, prompting Gunner to nod.
He had no idea what the fuck he’d done last night—or had it been Caspian?—to end up here, but it must have been ‘out of the ordinary’ for sure.
“Don’t be long. Pancakes will cure your hangover.”
Gunner watched Caspian’s father disappear behind the door and then sat up in stunned silence. He was piecing together that Caspian must have come home drunk. His father knew of it, but hadn’t yelled at him. And Caspian’s mother was making him pancakes, because they presumed he wasn’t feeling too fresh.