Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I want you to be the one to make me come. Preferably, with that thick cock pounding my prostate. So maybe you could save your freakout until after that.”
Tate chuckled. “Fuck, you’re mean.”
Liam shrugged, and a smirk curved those pouty lips. “I’m gonna head on in there,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder toward the only bedroom. “I’d say take your time thinking about what you want to do, but I’m gonna get started. So don’t take too long.” He winked, spun on a toe like the perfect ballet dancer he was, then started down the hall. His pert ass mocked Tate with every swish of his hips. Before he disappeared into his room, he glanced over his shoulder. “There’s one very important way our worlds align, and I’m dying to prove it to you, so choose wisely.”
Tate’s head dropped back, and he groaned at the white ceiling.
No way was he strong enough to resist an offer like that. Liam won. He knew he’d won, the little minx.
So much could go wrong.
What if someone saw his car? He’d parked behind the building as Liam instructed with promises that no one else parked back there, but shit happened.
What if Randy saw through the lies when he asked about the woman he took on a picnic and then spent the night with?
What if Liam decided he was a lost cause and dropped him?
It would hurt.
Shit. It would hurt if Liam ended this. How on earth had that happened? It didn’t matter how. It was too late—he’d crossed an invisible line—and there was no going back. He might as well reap the rewards before it all went to shit.
He forced himself to stroll instead of charging into the bedroom like a raging bull. The fifteen seconds it took to get there felt like eons. Walking wasn’t easy with a lead pipe between his legs and a heart beating so fast and hard he could feel it in his neck.
Breathing ragged, he stepped into the room and nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Jesus Christ.”
Liam lay in the center of his queen-size bed completely naked, with his sculpted legs spread and his stiff cock in his fist. All Tate could see was the red, angry tip peeking out of that tight grip. The grin on Liam’s face was pure sex.
“I see you made the right choice.” His voice dropped two octaves, coming out husky and full of need.
“I think so,” Tate responded through a closed throat.
“Oh, I know so. You have no idea what my ass can do, Tate, but you’re about to find out.”
“Fuck, Luxe.” That confidence was a damn aphrodisiac. “You’re beautiful.” And he was. Incredibly so. All rolling hills and valleys of muscle wrapped in creamy smooth skin. Liam had minimal body hair and no tattoos or piercings. A small scar marred his right shoulder as though he’d had surgery in the past, but it was the only blemish on an otherwise perfect specimen. His own body was riddled with scars from a rough, unsupervised youth and the few tattoos he’d gotten over the years. If he still had any functioning brain cells after this, he’d ask about the shoulder, but most likely, he’d be too drunk on Liam to remember.
“Get naked,” the gorgeous object of his inspection said.
Tate didn’t have to be told twice. As his hands went to his fly, realization slammed into him with the force of a Mack truck, and his knees wobbled. This was the first time he’d been with a fully naked man. It was the first time he’d be fucking in a bed. It was the first time he didn’t have to rush. He could take his time exploring every inch of Liam. He could draw it out until the man begged for release, begged for Tate’s cock. He could shout and demand Liam put a voice to every delicious sensation Tate wrung from him.
His uncertainty fled. He didn’t have enough blood to fuel his brain and cock at the same time, and right now, all of it was charging down south. He toed off his sneakers, stepping onto the soft carpet. As he unzipped his jeans, he moved to the edge of the bed for a better view of the sexy man pleasuring himself.
Liam’s hand stilled. He propped himself up on one elbow. “Keep going,” he whispered, staring as though enraptured by the strip show.
Tate hooked his thumbs in the side of his jeans and briefs together, pushing them down. A harsh sound hissed from his lungs when the material scraped over his dick.
As his clothes hit the floor, his cock flopped forward, heavy and leaking without being touched.
“Damn,” Liam said on an exhale. “That is going to feel so good inside me.”
“About as good as your ass will feel strangling it, I bet.”
“Yes. Take your shirt off. You look hot as fuck with it on, but I’m over it.”