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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He threw his head back, gasping for air as pleasure coursed through him with the force of wild rapids. His buttocks tightened on the teasing fingers as he came down Frank’s tongue.

For once, his brain was empty of any intrusive thoughts about the past or future.

Pumped out, he limply hung off the backrest, still wrapped in the strong arms as Frank pulled himself back up.

Frank chuckled. “My pleasure. I love when you lose control.” He tightened his grip on Ezra, locking him in a sweaty embrace.

“You make me do that.” Ezra nuzzled the side of Frank’s face and put his arms around the thick neck. He was ready for a little nap.

Frank’s heart beat against him fast, and Ezra put his hand over his man’s chest, imagining that it thudded like that for him. That he was special, not just a pretty thing who gave good head.

They hugged for a long time, and neither of them said anything. A strange sense of calm washed over Ezra when he removed his T-shirt and rested on Frank half-naked. He was at peace, as if this man and his home in the scrapyard were truly enough to ensure Ezra’s happiness.

But at some point, Frank extended his arm to the duffel bag on the floor and pulled out Ezra’s client notebook.

“Can we talk?” he asked, making Ezra’s blood freeze.

Chapter 20

Ezra

The notebook in Frank’s hand had been a friend of Ezra’s since he’d first started working as an escort. Its corners were worn from frequent use, and the spine had wrinkles, which somehow always reminded Ezra of the fact that he too would eventually age, and that his fortune needed to be made in the present.

But right now, the bundle of paper was like a grenade that might explode at any second.

Frank hugged him though, as warm as he’d been before he pulled out the notebook. “We found it when retrieving your photos, and I never really asked about the other guys you were seeing—”

A ball of lead weighed down Ezra’s insides, but he couldn’t keep in the question knocking on the inside of his skull. “You read it?”

The prolonged silence made him want to hide under a blanket and never leave.

“It… it opened on the ribbon-marked page, so yeah, I took a peek but didn’t read anything else. I don’t mind being a sweet, thick pancake, as long as you’re the one eating it.” Frank was trying to lighten the mood, which had to be a good sign.

Still, Ezra’s mind remained clouded, and the insecurities unlocked by Shane’s opinion about his lifestyle kept him on edge. Frank had never been violent, mean, nor insincere, but most men would rather not hear about their partner’s conquests, especially not in clinical detail. That notebook held many secrets, and seeing it now made Ezra feel shame over the possibility of Frank knowing them all.

Maybe he shouldn’t. He chose his life path knowing all—well, most—pros and cons. A part of him had done it to spite his parents and to no longer be dependent on them, but he had been at peace with it, even when the client was a bore or not at all Ezra’s type. But the feelings he’d developed for Frank made him doubt himself.

For so many years, he’d managed to keep focused on long-term goals and steer clear of romance. Now the walls he’d firmly kept in place had cracked, and he felt as if he’d been dropped at swimming distance between two islands but would drown out of sheer indecisiveness.

Words felt like wood chips in his dry mouth, but he spoke nevertheless. “It’s just… private notes.”

Frank slid his hand up Ezra’s spine, then all the way to his hair. “That’s okay, but it did force me to think that maybe we both are avoiding some topics that need to be discussed.” His voice was soft as velvet, as if to cushion the blows to come, yet it only succeeded at making Ezra feel like he was being smothered instead of stabbed.

He looked away, suddenly aware of his nakedness. Was this a conversation they ought to have without their pants on? What if one of them wanted to run?

But Frank kept stroking him, as if Ezra were a wild animal caught in snares and needed to be calmed.

Ezra’s mind was overcrowded with all the words he could say, but instead he smiled at Frank, hoping to distract him. “I haven’t been avoiding anything. We’re good the way it is.”

“Are we though? I need to know where your head is at, sweetie.” Frank made his point kissing his temple. “Do you want to add more pages to this notebook when Paul is no longer a concern? Would that be in LA, or here?”

Ezra’s mouth fell open. With Paul hunting him somewhere beyond the bounds of the junkyard, he couldn’t envision any future that didn’t involve Frank. But now that doubts hit him in the face, he was questioning his own sanity. Had he forgotten all about the goals and plans he’d worked for? For a guy who didn’t fit into them in the slightest? The answer lay in the way he still clung to Frank’s sturdy form, but what if the intense emotions he’d been feeling were only some freaky defense mechanism akin to Stockholm Syndrome? What if everything changed once he was free again?


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