Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Was it all the sexual activity we’d engaged in over the past several hours?
Or was it the things I’d told him about why I’d left Detroit?
I still couldn’t believe I’d done that. So few people in Pelican Bay knew what I’d been accused of, and while the committee that’d made the decision to hire me had decided that none of that shit figured into my hiring, the everyday citizens of Pelican Bay wouldn’t be as understanding. Like some of the men and women I’d worked with on the force back in Detroit, even just the suggestion of inappropriate behavior had caused them to look at me differently. It hadn’t mattered that I’d worked by their sides for twenty years or even that I’d been fully vindicated. The seed had been planted and nothing was going to get rid of that particular weed for some people.
“Ford?”
I was glad that he didn’t jump or seem startled. It told me that he was at least aware of where he was.
“I’m sorry,” he said without turning to look at me. “Did I wake you?”
I moved into the room and went to stand by the wall so I could see his profile but not be in his way. I wasn’t sure he wanted me to touch him at this point. Yes, I’d been touching him pretty much nonstop for the past several hours, but maybe the reality of what we’d done was starting to sink in for him. I knew it had to at some point. I wasn’t completely naïve, after all. He may have liked everything I’d done to him but facing it in the light of day would be a very different thing. Part of me was surprised he was even still here.
Admittedly, when I’d woken up in bed alone a few minutes ago, I was certain he’d left. But when I’d looked out the window, I’d seen that his car was still in the driveway, so I’d gone searching for him.
“You didn’t,” I responded.
“I hope this is okay,” he said as he motioned to the wall with his chin. He wasn’t actually looking at me but after our conversation earlier about the feelings that came with the visual memories that got imprinted on his brain, I understood the compulsion a bit better now.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m thinking we should have just skipped all the good stuff so I could’ve put you to work right away. I’ve got a lot of walls in this place.”
Ford smiled. “I liked the good stuff,” he said. He shot me a quick glance. “Never skip the good stuff.” He blushed a little and then focused on the painting again.
I hadn’t even shown him all the good stuff yet. After he’d come in my mouth that first time, I’d started the process all over again, though my own body had come roaring back to life the second time I’d wrapped my lips around Ford’s thick cock. I’d managed to hold off until Ford had come again, then I’d used my hand to jack myself off all over his gorgeous abdomen. We’d ended up in a tangle of limbs and sticky bodies and when I’d mentioned that we should get cleaned up again, Ford had suggested a shower instead.
Thankfully, I’d had the forethought to have a very large water heater installed when I’d moved into the house because we’d been in that shower for a good half hour as we’d just loved on one another. I’d gotten Ford off twice again, but it’d been Ford going to his knees in that shower that’d been the highlight for me. His inexperience had shown through as he’d tried to take my dick down his throat after just a few passes, but I hadn’t cared in the least. I’d come so hard and so fast that I’d ended up sinking to my knees too. I’d held him in my arms as he’d sought reassurance that he’d done everything right.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked.
Ford shook his head but didn’t say anything else.
“Regrets?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He stopped and looked at me. He shook his head again and held my gaze for the longest time. “You?”
I stepped closer to him and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. He had paint spattered on his face and chest. “No,” I murmured. Ford closed his eyes when I touched him. I loved how he seemed to always be leaning into my touch, like he wanted more. When I dropped my hand, he opened his eyes and paused for a long beat before starting to paint again. I searched out a second paintbrush and joined him.
“Cam, your arm,” he said.
My arm did sting quite a bit after all the evening’s activities, but my gut was telling me that if I wanted Ford to open up about what was bothering him, I couldn’t just stand there staring at him.