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)
“Uh, what the fuck are you doing here? I’m here cuz I saw your truck out front. There a problem with our work?”
“Oh, no, definitely not. I just stopped by to do a final check and make sure everything was in order for the guy’s opening day. It’s coming up soon.”
“Uh-huh. Where’s the little dance guy?”
Little dance guy? Guess he should be glad Randy hadn’t used a slur.
“He was running out for some lunch when I showed up, so he just let me in to look around the locker room.”
“Why is your hair messy? And you’re all fucking flushed. Were you…” He started to laugh.
Liam’s heart shot into overdrive. Shit. He couldn’t do a damn thing to help. As humiliated as he was by what had just happened, no one deserved to be outed this way. It would destroy Tate.
“Were you jerking off back there?”
“What?” Tate laughed.
Could Randy hear the strain in it?
“No, you sick fuck, I wasn’t jerking off in an alley behind a building on Main Street. The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Oh, my God, you totally have an I-just-came-face. You whacked one off behind the dance studio. I’m proud of you, T. Always figured you were vanilla. Glad to know you got some freak in ya.”
“Jesus, fuck, I wasn’t jerking off.”
Liam’s hands and knees were in agony, but he didn’t change positions, terrified he’d make a sound and draw Randy’s attention.
“You were. But don’t worry, your perverted little secret is safe with me. For now.” Randy laughed, and then there was a slapping sound like he’d clapped Tate on the shoulder. “Wanna grab some lunch?”
“Fuck off.”
“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that.”
“Fine,” Tate said, sounding resigned. “But you’re buying since you’re an asshole.”
As the sound of their footsteps faded, Liam realized he was still on all fours with his lubed ass uncovered out behind his building.
How had the hottest fuck of his life turned into the most humiliating and degrading experience he’d ever had?
Wincing, he shifted back on his heels to inspect the damage. Both palms had little flecks of gravel embedded in the skin, and his knees were bleeding. Guess he wouldn’t be giving any blowjobs for a while.
He probably wouldn’t be seeing Tate for a while, either, which, at the moment, he couldn’t feel horrible about. His palms and knees hurt while the rest of him burned too hot with humiliation to feel his usual compassion. Then there was his fragile heart, which had stupidly started to get involved only to be ruthlessly stomped on two seconds later.
God, he was a pathetic mess. He sighed and gingerly climbed to his feet, flinching at the sting when his legs straightened. Once up and no longer cringing in discomfort, he carefully tucked his spent dick into his shorts. “This is what happens when you get involved,” he muttered at his crotch like a crazy person. “Actually,” he said, tapping a bloodied hand on the left side of his chest. “This is what happens when you get involved.”
He sighed again and spun toward the door. Looked like he’d be taking a break from painting the shelf to go doctor his knees. As he turned, he caught sight of his cum dripping down the brick wall.
“Fabulous,” he muttered.
After he patched up his knees, he could come back to clean up the evidence of his poor choices.
He’d fucked up.
God, he’d fucked up in the most spectacular way possible. This trumped the time he and Randy snuck onto Old Man Murphy’s farm to set his animals free. The goats and pigs ate through an entire crop of corn in one afternoon. Man, had they gotten in some serious trouble. They’d spent the entire summer working their asses off on Old Man Murphy’s farm without earning a single cent to make up for the damage they’d cost. Until a few hours ago, he’d have said it was his biggest fuck-up to date.
Well, he’d blown that out of the water.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you Daryl isn’t gonna be workin’ today,” Randy said as they unloaded supplies from the truck.
“What? You’re shittin’ me. What the fuck’s he doing?”
Randy shrugged, hefting a heavy bag of powdered grout onto his shoulder. “Ducky is getting out of prison, and Daryl’s picking him up. He cleared it with Larkin.”
“And nobody bothered to tell me?” Dammit, he’d planned to get Randy and Daryl set up and working the job, then slip out and rush back over to Liam’s for some serious damage control. Now, he’d have to spend the entire afternoon doing Daryl’s work.
“What’s it matter?” Randy asked, shooting him a confused look. “This ain’t even a big job. You and I’ll get it knocked out in a few hours, no problem.”
“It’s just fucking irresponsible.”
“It’s Ducky’s release day. You can’t expect Daryl to miss that. Stop being a dick. You’ve been all over Daryl’s case lately. It’s starting to piss him off.”