Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Maybe it’s the repressed thing, or maybe it’s that the thought of kissing a man is new and exciting, but I’ve never been so turned on by the idea of someone else’s mouth on mine.
I nod, but it might be too subtle because Jordan doesn’t close that small gap.
“I’m going to need you to say it,” he whispers.
“Say what?”
“Ask for it.”
Even though it’s a given that if I say two little words, I’ll get exactly what I want, asking a man to kiss me is nerve-racking. I don’t know if it’s a power trip for him or if he wants to make sure this is definitely what I want before he makes a move.
“Kiss me,” I demand. He presses against me, but right before our lips touch, I smile. “And Jordan? Make it real.”
He kisses me harder than he has before. Gone are the soft, tentative movements of his mouth against mine. The other times he’s kissed me, he’s let me lead. That is gone. Gone is any semblance of an attempt to keep his tongue away. Gone is any hesitance from his side or mine. But more importantly, gone are any inhibitions I had about doing this.
He cups the back of my hair with a wet hand, gripping tight to the short tendrils. My hair is usually kept short at the back for Coby movies, but this job required me to grow it out a little.
Jordan presses his tongue against mine and then moans into my mouth.
The hot water mixed with the frigid air on my face and shoulders makes me light-headed, or maybe it’s the kiss doing that. I didn’t have trouble breathing until Jordan Brooks entered my orbit.
He moves in even closer, and I can feel his hardness against my thigh under the water. I have the sudden urge to reach for it, almost like it’s reflex and I’ve forgotten who I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. I run my hands up his chest to occupy them instead, but the hard planes under my fingers only turn me on more.
This stupid thong is already uncomfortable. The tip of my cock manages to peek out the top of the waistband, and it’s a little too tight. Too restrictive.
“Fuck,” I mutter against Jordan’s lips and reach to pull the thong down a tiny bit to get some relief.
Jordan breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead on mine. He breathes deep and says, “I can help with that if you want.”
Damn if I don’t want to take him up on the offer. “Just doing some strategic rearranging.” And I might give myself one hard stroke to get my dick to stop aching. “Plus, I’m not going to give it up that easy.”
“My hand on your dick only counts as sex if you come.”
“Is that in the gay man’s rulebook?”
“I’ll send you a copy.”
I reach up and grab the back of his neck. “Stop ruining this with your words and use your mouth for something I actually enjoy.”
“So you admit it. You do like kissing me.”
And just as I thought the moment couldn’t get any more ruined, Denver yells from the house, “No, Blake! Think of Jordan’s embarrassment! We can take him on tour and have him as our opening act.”
“Hey,” Lyric complains. “That’s supposed to be my job.”
I cock my head at Jordan. “I thought Denver was on your side? I keep losing track.”
“I think we can safely say, the only side all of them are on is the side where they get to fuck with us.”
“Ignore them,” Harley joins in now. “Go back to what you were doing! Here, I’ll set the mood. Mase, how do you—”
Ed Sheeran’s “Afterglow” wafts through the outdoor speakers mounted around on the side of the house.
Jordan, knowing he lost this round, sits back down beside me. I’m still hard, but I’m ignoring it.
“Nooo,” someone yells from the house.
“You’re right. I’m never going to win if they keep ‘helping’ me.” Jordan flicks his hair and then runs his hands through it.
The light from the house bounces off his good looks, and when he smiles again, I realize something myself.
I’m never going to win this bet, period.
Chapter Twelve
Jordan
When Blake climbs out of the hot tub, I can’t help but look. After that kiss, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be in a room with him without checking him out.
I was so close to touching him, to crossing lines. I was even willing to make loopholes in the bet just so I could do it.
It goes to show I never learn. I’m hiding from the world, from Ben, because he turned out to be exactly like the others, and yet here I am, making stupid bets and throwing myself at another “straight” guy.
Sure, it’s a great distraction, and yes, holy shit, yes, I want to have sex with Blake Monroe, but there’s a giant red flag being waved in front of my eyes, and I’m too blind to see it.