Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Watching him come was the best thing Clay had ever seen. His eyelids slowly lowered, and he let out the sexiest grunt as he painted Clay’s stomach.
They stared at each other, both breathing hard. Dane grinned, and the grunt held nothing on that delighted smile. Dane stepped in close and softly kissed his lips, then nuzzled his nose into Clay’s.
So damn sweet.
“How about we jump in the shower? You got one of those in this apartment?”
“Sure do. It’s not big enough for two.”
“We’ll manage.”
Laughing, Dane pressed him into the wall, kissing him over and over. “Stay with me here. Tonight. Just tonight. I’m not through with you yet.”
“I will.”
Chapter 11
Warm skin.
Soft snoring.
Contentment. Soul-deep contentment.
God, Clay never wanted this rightness to end.
Definitely didn’t want to open his eyes. Why couldn’t he live forever, wrapped in this perfect cocoon?
Because his bladder was making demands, and coffee also sounded pretty damn tempting.
Against his better judgment, Clay opened his eyes to see messy light-brown hair and tanned, soft skin. Dane. They were lying on their sides in the queen-sized bed with Clay practically wrapped around him like an octopus. Seemed he was a cuddler after all.
Last night…fuck…last night had been amazing. Mind-blowing. Toe-curling. Life-changing.
Or rather, it would have been life-changing if Clay’s life wasn’t so fucked up and so out of his own control.
As it was, he couldn’t think in complete thoughts just yet. But he blamed part of that on the morning wood sucking up all his blood and demanding they go another round…you know, to make sure last night was no fluke.
But staying over had been a mistake.
Not the sex part. No, that was no mistake. That had been perfection wrapped in bacon.
He shouldn’t have slept with Dane. Sharing a bed for things besides sex made everything confusing. Last night had been about sex and both of them getting off after so much fucking foreplay.
Moving very slowly, Clay pulled the arm wrapped around Dane’s waist and slid off the bed, doing his best not to shift the mattress. Dane’s snoring broke off for a second, and Clay’s heart skipped a beat. He froze, one foot on the floor, his entire naked body balanced on the edge of the bed as he waited to see if Dane would wake. Dane shifted, sighed, and settled again into low snores.
Clay finished climbing out of the bed with skills a fucking cat burglar would admire and gathered up his clothes. He dressed in the kitchen and quietly retreated down the stairs with his shoes still in his hands.
What time was it? The sun was peeking through the trees and casting the few clouds in the blue sky in shades of orange and pink. Birds chirped and hopped around the recently mowed lawn, looking for their breakfast. He and Baer had taken hedge clippers and a hacksaw to the various shrubs, trying to beat them back. The yard was mostly under control again, but it could use more work.
His powers shifted, waking up faster than his brain. They stretched and seemed to preen in the morning light, sniffing the air and relishing this early quiet. They wanted to go for a walk, for him to roll in the grass and soak in the freshness of the day.
Later, Clay promised.
He and Baer would be out for one of their long walks in the woods later in the day. Then he could stretch out and sort of recharge his batteries after last night’s adventure.
Without thinking, Clay grabbed the door handle for one of the French doors leading into the kitchen. One step into the room and he was face-to-face with Baer and Grey sipping coffee at the new oval-shaped breakfast table. Both of them were wearing knowing smiles on their smug fucking faces.
In the long list of ways Clay wanted to start his morning, this did not make his list.
“Out for an early walk?” Baer asked, his voice higher than normal, as if he were trying like hell not to start laughing right in Clay’s face.
“In last night’s clothes,” Grey added.
Clay stepped around Baer and dropped his shoes on the floor. “Any more of that coffee?”
“Carafe,” Grey murmured.
“And were you attacked on your walk? Some kind of flying suckerfish? Because that’s definitely not a hickey on your neck,” Baer continued.
Grey lifted his mug of coffee to his lips again, but he paused long enough to agree. “Definitely not a hickey.”
Without thinking, Clay slapped his hand to the spot Dane had sucked on during round one—or was it round three? Fuck, he’d come so many times last night, his balls should need a week to recover, but his dick was refusing to take orders from his brain or balls. The damn thing wanted to say “Fuck coffee” and crawl back into bed with Dane.
Laughter rang out in the kitchen, and Clay groaned. He’d never had a roommate, but he sort of imagined this was what it was like. Fuck, when all six of them were in the plantation house, it would be like a goddamn frat house.