Handyman (#1) Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Handyman Series by Claire Thompson
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
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Will didn’t resist, taking Jack’s shaft deep into his throat. Will’s finger prodded and teased between his ass cheeks. Jack stiffened, embarrassed and unsure about this sudden, if gentle invasion of his most private place. The finger was wet and pressed easily past the sentinel of muscle ringing the entrance. Though he was embarrassed, it felt good. He couldn’t deny it. It felt great.

It was as if there were a furnace boiling deep in his belly—he was literally on fire. Whether in spite of or because of Will’s intimate probing, Jack’s climax welled up like an earthquake shaking inside of him, shattering through him, utterly beyond his control.

For an indeterminate amount of time Jack lay in a stupor, only barely conscious of the man beside him. Dimly he became aware of a harsh, rasping sound, which he eventually placed as his own ragged breathing. He realized his fingers were entwined in Will’s hair, probably hurting him. He forced his cramped fingers to let go and his hands fell limply to his sides.

Will stretched out beside him. He leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, on his eyelids, on each cheek and finally on his lips. “You liked that, huh?” he said, the teasing lilt back in his voice.

Jack turned toward him, trying to focus. “Yeah,” he said, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth. “You could say that.”

Will laughed, happiness suffusing his features. Silently Jack marveled to think he was the source of this happiness in some way. He laughed back out of sheer joy and impulsively caught Will in a bear hug.

They lay together in post-orgasmic contentment, stroking each other’s bodies and faces. They whispered back and forth, mostly the sweet romantic nonsense shared between new lovers. Jack felt sleep tugging at him but he resisted, wanting to savor this quiet, shiny new joy—a joy he’d never experienced before, a joy he hadn’t known existed.

Eventually they quieted, content just to hold each other. Jack drifted on the edge of consciousness, sometimes wondering if this was a dream. If it was, it was the best dream he had ever had. He succumbed to Morpheus’ lure, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber in the arms of his lover.

Sometime much later Jack awoke, drifting upward into consciousness, aware he was happy before he remembered why. The reason for his happiness was beside him. Will lay on his side, curled against Jack, his head resting on Jack’s chest.

Jack stroked Will’s hair. He looked out at the silvered moon, recalling the song about the lonely man who falls in love and then the blue moon turns to gold.

He didn’t dare assign whatever was happening between them with the label of love, but this was definitely more than experimenting, of that he was certain. Yes, the sex had been amazing, but whatever was developing between them went beyond sex. A real friendship was blossoming, along with trust.

Jack, frightened but eager, had trusted Will, and that trust had not been misplaced. He marveled at how someone so young could be so wise and good. Not for the first time, he felt as if he were the younger of two. In some ways, he supposed, that was true.

Will stirred and sighed softly in his sleep. Jack shifted and Will rolled away from him, falling to his back. He looked even younger in sleep, his lashes shadowing his cheek, his lips rosy and pouting.

Jack’s mouth was dry. He also, he realized, needed to pee. Carefully he eased himself from beneath Will’s sleeping form. He adjusted the sheet over Will’s body, affection for the moment outweighing lust.

He went into the bathroom, flicking on the light. He used the toilet and washed his face. As he dried his face with a towel, he glanced at himself in the mirror and shook his head. No one he knew in the world would believe where he was right now, or what he had just done with another man. He hardly believed it himself. Time later, he thought, to figure it all out. Right now he just wanted something to drink. Will probably had water or juice in his fancy new refrigerator.

Quietly he moved around the room, finding and pulling on his boxers and jeans. He didn’t bother with his shirt, or rather, Will’s shirt. Instead he folded it and placed it, along with his belt, on a chair. With a last look at the still-sleeping Will, Jack left the room and went downstairs, heading toward the kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator.

As he drank it, he suddenly remembered the telescope, still set up on the back deck. He would bring it inside before the morning dew covered it.

Stepping outside in his bare feet, he breathed in the fresh spring air and looked up at the sky. The night was silent, save for crickets and the gentle rustle of the wind in the trees. It must be well past midnight, he thought. The stars had faded, outshone by the brilliant moon. He glanced at the telescope, smiling as he recalled Will’s generous gesture in offering it to him.


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