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)
Barefoot. In only his jeans.
No.
This wasn’t over!
Chapter 9 - Gunner
Gunner collided with the door and fumbled with the broken handle, his mind screaming that the predator who’d just sampled him was about to bite in again. He managed to open the motel room and stumbled outside when his stomach twisted in discomfort. The sun was still up and shone straight into his eyes as he ran into the parking lot, trying not to think about the forbidden thing he’d done. And with Caspian of all people.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Had the lack of opportunity really been the only reason stopping him from having sex with a man before? Impossible. This body must have been what made him lose all inhibition. Just like he couldn’t control his new eyes, and they kept leaking tears when his real body seemed to be made of stone.
He didn’t know where he was going, he was barefoot, and had left his phone in the room, but none of it mattered. The urge to run was too great to ignore. He needed to escape what he’d done.
Gunner hadn’t just let Caspian fuck him. He’d ridden the guy’s dick. Said he was Caspian’s bitch.
And the worst thing was that in the moment, he hadn’t cared about what all of it meant, too lost in pleasure of those massive hands holding him down and dirty whispers in his ear. He’d let Caspian show him his place using Gunner’s own flesh against him!
And he’d gone with it like a cheap whore. He wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.
He wanted to disappear.
A loud honk tore through the air, and Gunner looked left in time to see wide eyes staring at him from behind a windshield. The car came to an abrupt stop, but its hood still pushed at Gunner’s hip. With his head spinning and legs far from stable, he didn’t manage to remain standing and fell onto the asphalt.
Caspian—in Gunner’s old body—slammed both his hands on the roof of the car, his neck and face blooming with a dark flush. “Are you fucking blind?” he roared in a low voice that sounded as if it had come from a rusty pipe. “You just hit him! If there’s a single bruise on that boy, I’ll find you, and I’ll break your neck!”
Gunner got up on shaky legs, unsure what to say, but just as he turned around and was about to run into oblivion, Caspian grabbed him from behind and threw him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, and the vicious tone in his voice prompted Gunner to curl his toes. Was this how he sounded to others? Like a lion purring at his mate? That did explain why so many girls leaned closer when he spoke to them and why Sandy stuck around.
The guy in the car didn’t even care to shout anything back and drove off with a squeal of tires.
Gunner’s head throbbed with questions he had no way of answering. “I… We don’t have to talk about it!” He wiggled in the hold, but it was like steel. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew his body was strong. He’d worked all his life to make it so, and still, to be on the receiving end of that force was both thrilling and terrifying.
“We absolutely do,” Caspian said and carried him toward the open door to their motel room as if Gunner were weightless. But as the asphalt and trash littering the parking lot passed under Gunner, it occurred to him that his hole felt damp, and a bit sore, and that he needed to be alone. Process everything that happened and clean up without anyone staring at him. Especially not Caspian.
But shock kept him quiet and clutching to the other man’s massive form.
“Hey, where are you taking him?”
Caspian spun around, and when Gunner crooked his neck, he saw a woman staring at them with a stern expression. And while Gunner saw her upside-down, he recognized the body language of someone ready to run. Or call the cops.
He wanted neither to happen. This was between him and Caspian. Their situation was fucked up enough without the interference of an outsider.
“It’s okay,” he laughed nervously. “Just a game we play.”
The woman’s shoulders relaxed, and she took a step back, adjusting a large weekend bag on her shoulder. “If you say so—”
She let her gaze linger on Gunner, as if offering him another chance to ask for help, but Gunner’s indecision was put to rest when Caspian gave him a slap on the ass—a call-back to the glorious moments from fifteen minutes ago when Gunner’s skin had burned with blows much harder than this one.
“You’re coming with me, boy. Brace yourself,” Caspian said so loudly it could only be for the benefit of strangers, and Gunner found himself cooking on the inside.