Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“You like what you see?” I manage to mutter.
“I like it way too much,” he pants. “Don’t talk, though, unless it’s to say you want my dick in your mouth. Nope, wait.” His muscles tense. “Too late.”
His cock jumps in my hand, and then he’s coming in hot bursts that spill onto my stomach.
But the husky groan he lets out is drowned out by the sound of raucous laughter from downstairs. Oh shit. Somebody is home. A bunch of somebodies, from the sound of it. I’m not usually prone to panic, but the burst of anxiety that goes off inside me has me diving out from under him, and rolling off Bailey’s bed.
The proof of his climax drips down my abdomen, but I’m so panicked about the possibility of getting caught that I ignore the mess. I just snatch my clothes off the floor and whip out the door, running for the shower.
The Universe Decided
Luke
“I raise ya fifty,” Judd announces, smirking at me.
I check my cards. We’re playing five-card stud tonight and I’ve got two pair: tens and eights. It’s the “dead man’s hand,” the same one Wild Bill Hickok was holding when he took a shot to the back of the head in some Wild West saloon. If I meet Judd’s bet and lose fifty bucks, plus the ten we all threw in for the ante, I’ll be the dead man. My year of free rent doesn’t start until the fall, which means money remains tight.
But I suspect Judd’s bluffing. And I’m feeling cocky tonight.
Nah, I’ve been feeling cocky ever since I fooled around with Keaton. He’s been avoiding me for three days, and for some reason that makes me feel…victorious, maybe? Like I have the upper hand, which isn’t a position I’ve ever felt like I had with Keaton Hayworth III.
“I call,” I say carelessly, sliding my chips into the center of the table.
Judd’s eyebrows soar. “For real?”
In the chair next to mine, Tanner starts cackling. “I think you just caught him in a bluff,” he says, poking me in the arm.
I grin. “Let’s see ‘em,” I tell Judd.
Jaw twitching unhappily, Judd lays down his cards. He has a pair of queens, and nothing else.
I flick my own cards on the table and drag the huge pile of chips toward me. Sweet. There’s more than a hundred bucks here. I’m buying myself a steak dinner tomorrow.
“Dead man’s hand,” a familiar voice remarks as Judd flips over my cards.
I stiffen slightly. Keaton appears, peering at my winning hand.
“Yup,” I say, sparing him a quick look. “Only this one doesn’t come with a bullet.”
“A bullet?” Ahmad asks blankly.
“It’s the hand that a famous gunslinger was playing before he got shot to death,” Keaton explains.
I notice he hasn’t met my eyes once, not even when I looked at him. Pussy. I still remember the way he sprinted out of my bedroom on Sunday night, as if his ass was on fire. Hell, I hadn’t even gotten my hands on his ass yet.
And judging by the way he’s been keeping his distance, I never will.
But let’s be honest, it’s probably for the best. I can’t deny I enjoyed blowing him, and I definitely wish I’d gotten the chance to fuck him, but the universe clearly decided it wasn’t meant to be. And I’m okay with that. Screwing around with a frat brother is as terrible an idea as hooking up with one of my coworkers. Way too close to home.
Luckily, it seems like Keaton and I are on the same page about no repeats.
“You in for the next round?” Judd asks his best bud.
I fully expect Keaton to say no. And a beat of silence goes by as uncertainty plays across his features.
“Sure,” he says suddenly. “Let me grab a beer. Anyone want a refill?”
Tanner and Jako take him up on the offer, and a moment later Keaton returns from the kitchen with two Sam Adams and a Dos Equis for himself. Huh. He drinks Dos Equis? This is the first time I’ve paid attention to his beer of choice. And it’s also the first time I have to forcibly stop myself from checking him out.
Before, a passing glance of admiration wasn’t something I’d stressed about, but now I find myself going out of my way not to linger on his appearance. But he looks damn good in those expensive jeans and a snug gray sweater that stretches across his impossibly broad chest.
As Judd deals the cards for the new round, I sip my beer and chat with Jako and Ahmad about the new semester. Jako is an econ major, and he and I share a business class this term—a marketing seminar. Ahmad is majoring in biology, and I almost regret asking him about his schedule, because it ends up drawing Keaton into the conversation. Ack. I keep forgetting he’s also a bio major.