Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Oh, I’m ready.” Competitive Allie raises her head before the rest of me has a chance to assess the sense in what I’m saying. Could I really take Carson so soon after Stefan? I can still feel the echo of him inside me. Does that mean I’m sore? Should I insist on waiting until tomorrow?
I do the math, and there are nine more men and only five more days. Two a day, at least. Or more if I want to get through them all and have time to formulate more questions for the article.
A true journalist, my internal voice whispers with a deep sarcasm. I can pretend all I like that I’m in this proposal for investigative purposes, but the truth is it’s all about personal exploration and the desire for pleasure.
If I can have some of what Dawn has within this contained environment, and walk away a changed woman at the end, everything will be better. I can go back to my job and deal with the lack of work satisfaction because I’ll know satisfaction in my sex life.
Yes, there will still be things missing. Emotional stability. Love, even.
But I’m a big believer in dealing with one thing at a time.
Compartmentalization is king.
A rumble of approval meets my confident assertion, and Clay slaps his friend on the back like a best man congratulating the groom at a wedding. The honeymoon is imminent. Except it’s nothing romantic.
A shiver of anticipation sets the hairs on my arms raising. Carson is gorgeous. When his piercing blue eyes meet mine, they’re so intense I have to look away. Just the thought of seeing him naked is enough to ruin my panties. All that ink covering his body, the fierce expressions of gods and heroes long discarded and dead, cling to his aura. Outward appearances make Carson seem more dangerous. His height. His sheer bulk.
But there’s also a creativity about him, present in his art and his interest in ancient history.
And a vulnerability, too.
“Eat up,” Clay says.
Carson reaches out and grabs his beer, taking a long drink, his throat moving thirstily, and there’s something about the action that makes me wonder if he’s nervous. I guess it’s natural, even with experience. I’m someone new. Someone he doesn’t know that well.
And there are nine other men waiting to hear about how he does.
I’m glad Stefan was first because he was confident and experienced. He handled me with the expertise of a man who’s had years to become comfortable in his own skin. Now, with Carson, I feel like I’ll have a part to play in settling his nerves.
“Give me a couple of hours,” I say. “I want to have a swim. And I have more questions to ask.”
“Business before pleasure.” True words from Clay, but I don’t feel guilty.
“The way it has to be.”
Now that my next rendezvous has been determined, the group relaxes, and conversation turns to football and baseball. I get a chance to sit back and watch their interactions. It’s fun to witness their back and forth, fun to see them laugh without artifice. When they’re not trying to prove something, they seem to get along so well, though I accept that Natalie’s suggestion that they could become my harem could only ever be in my fantasies.
After, I clear the plates with Tom and Russell and the rest move to hang out in the sun. Watching seven gorgeous men apply sunscreen to their glistening skin is enough to make me drop a plate on the floor, and Russell’s startled response gives me pause. Tom is quick to clear up the mess, using his hands at first, and then a broom to sweep up the smaller shards. Russell busies himself by packing leftovers in the fridge, but out of the corner of my eye, I witness him grasping the edge of the counter and drawing long deep breaths into his lungs. With white knuckles and a tense expression, I can feel the anxiety pulsing from him and my heart aches. I had a rescue dog when I was a kid. One who’d gone through trauma before finding his forever home with us. Russell reminds me of him a lot. They share the same watchfulness and jumpiness. The same quiet awareness, and the instinct to remain on the outside until they’ve gained enough trust and are encouraged in.
When the kitchen is spotless, I make my way outside to swim a few lengths before choosing a place in the shade. I interview Jonas and Jimmy about masturbation, and I find out a whole lot about their attitudes to self-pleasure. Both express that having a ten-inch cock makes masturbation harder. More surface area to cover. Longer strokes means more effort. Both acknowledge the size of their biceps and laugh when I mention that their non-dominant arm is equally proportioned.