Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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By the time Frank got out of the shower, he was flipping the first batch of pancakes made with the mix Ros had given him. They were reduced in sugar, but Ezra still intended to build his own breakfast around the eggs and canned tomatoes.

“Coffee’s ready,” he informed as the floor squeaked under Frank’s weight.

Frank wore only his jeans, accessorized with the belt Ezra had given him for his birthday. The cool shade of the brown leather went so well with the expanse of powerful muscle that made up Frank’s chest. Dark hair created a path for Ezra’s gaze, and he found himself grinning, in need of brushing some of it in place close to Frank’s left nipple. Ezra kept himself mostly smooth, but he had a thing for body hair on other men and loved to feel it against his own skin.

Frank met his gaze with a smile. “That smells amazing,” he said, and petted Ezra’s back. Leaning into the touch was the most natural thing to do.

Ezra rubbed the back of his head against Frank's chest and grinned at him, smelling the fresh shower gel and the clean musk of his body. Frank’s skin was a gorgeous tan shade, his brows pronounced and low over his eyes, giving him an air of nobility. Such a handsome man. How lucky was it that Ezra was stuck with him of all people?

He gasped when big hands, which last night held him up with such ease, rested on his hips, claiming him in that protective way that put his heart at ease. This could be what every morning in the unforeseeable future would be like, and while this kind of domesticity felt comfortable, he wasn’t used to it. The only times he’d ever slept with the same man more than one night in a row was because that man had taken Ezra on a trip. Would this change things? Make time spent in his company seem less valuable to Frank due to its mundanity?

His heartbeat started rushing as Frank kissed his ear.

Hot, strong arms wrapped around his waist, as if to ease his worries. “I hope you don’t mind all the love bites. I might have gotten carried away last night. It’s your fault though. You unleash the beast in me.”

A tingling heat traveled from Ezra’s nape down his body, making him lean some of his weight on Frank as his legs weakened at the touch. Oh, he’d seen all the bruises and marks left on him last night. In any normal situation, he’d have been livid, no matter how good the sucking and biting had felt in the moment, because it would bother his other clients if he charged them for anything but perfection. But there was no one here to police the red marks on Ezra’s flesh, so he shook his head and put the pancakes on the plate before pouring more of the batter into the hot pan.

The oil sizzled like his brain had when he’d gotten his hands on Frank last night. Ezra had gotten used to a degree of power over the men he slept with, and not having it when Frank was his only lifeline left him feeling as if the floor under his feet was made of glass. Last night put him on solid ground again, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the only reason for his excitement. Something about this man made Ezra lose his mind a little bit, like that time he’d decided to skip condoms for no good reason, because it was to be their final meeting and he felt regretful over it. Or when he’d forgotten about them again last night, and let Frank bite him all over, braving the discomfort of being penetrated almost too fast because he needed to have the big cock inside him so badly.

He was usually reasonable, calculated, so finding out that given the right (or wrong) circumstances, he acted as irrational as everyone else left him unsettled. He didn’t like being dirty and worrying about the risk of STIs PReP did not protect him from, so when the rules he’d set up did end up being broken, the fault usually lay in the client forgetting to rubber up. But those last two times? It had happened because Ezra wanted Frank to come inside him, and that fucking scared him.

Frank nuzzled Ezra’s ear. “Why so quiet? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked and pulled away to sit at the table.

Ezra hadn’t even noticed how wrapped up in his own thoughts he’d gotten. Then again, wasn’t he allowed to be a bit frantic and all over the place after seeing a dismembered guy days ago?

He needed to get a grip on something beyond Frank’s dick and decide how to proceed. This should involve finding out what exactly was going on in the junkyard.


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