Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
How was he supposed to live up to those impossible requests anyway? Honesty, communication, and fucking acceptance? Lame. Lame. Lame. Why couldn’t Rafe want him to be naked in his presence or never look him in the eye or something doable like that?
Why did he insist on mixing sentiment in something that was supposed to be purely physical?
He knocked his head against the solid wood door once, not hard enough to hurt, but it still made his ears ring.
Being here was a huge mistake. Yet another in a series of bad decisions he made because he couldn’t control this damned aching, clawing need to be someone’s blow-up doll.
Still, he tugged off his coat and tossed it on the rack nearby and removed his scarf. The hat and gloves went next, followed by his sweater. Then he unbuckled his heels, because there was no way to peel his skinny jeans off without removing them first. It took forever, but eventually his cold feet hit even colder tile. He unsnapped his jeans and pushed them down his legs, wriggling until his ass was bare and the chilly air licked his moronic cock.
He stood naked in the dark and unfamiliar foyer with anxious exhilaration prickling his nerves. Goosebumps erupted over his flesh but was it because Rafe kept the temperature low or because he was so fucking turned on?
Likely, the latter.
That was just the kind of hedonistic sex maniac he was.
Heels on, Rafe had said. Hop bent to slip his babies back onto his feet, taking special care to make sure all the delicate straps were straight. His fingers shook as he refastened the buckle, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
Of course, that worked about as well as a fire in a downpour. He might as well get used to feeling unbalanced because he was pretty sure this night was only going to get worse.
And by worse, he meant better. Of course.
Hop stood straight as he could manage with knocking knees and a cock ready to gush. To his left was a small sofa near a fireplace. A shaggy white throw rug covered the hardwood. He crossed to the center of the room and lowered to the floor. Moonlight shone in through the windows, casting the room in a soft silver glow. The thick carpet tickled his skin as he lay back. There was no barrier between his position and the glass, no protection from spying eyes except for the relative darkness that bathed him.
Was that why Rafe had chosen it?
The air was heavy with scents of leather and cleaning oil as he lifted his legs and wrapped his arms around his thighs to grab both ass cheeks and spread them wide.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He squeezed his eyes closed as embarrassment and arousal mixed and mingled into one giant ball of hell-fucking-yes. On display like a possession, Hop couldn’t stop his cock from leaking precome onto his own stomach.
At this rate he’d come before Rafe even got his cock out.
Humiliation swamped him, but that just made his body tremble harder, his breath faster, and his pulse thicker.
It seemed like ages before Rafe’s thudding steps filtered through the pounding of Hop’s pulse. He looked from the corner of his eyes to see Rafe’s black cap-toe oxfords stroll around the corner.
Rafe ignored him like he would a table and went directly to the modern fireplace. Flames roared to life and a wave of heat washed over Hop’s exposed skin. He sank deeper into the softness at his back. Now orange light flickered in the room, and the shadows that had sheltered him before were gone. His asshole clenched once, hard, desperate and greedy.
His eyes betrayed him, as usual. They kept darting between the window and Rafe and the fire.
Rafe’s grin was devilish. There was no other word for that predatory glee. “I don’t have blinds in here, so don’t bother asking.”
Hop swallowed. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
He met Rafe’s gaze and bit his lip at the gleam in those dark depths. Rafe lowered to his knees and traced a finger from the head of Hop’s cock all the way to his pucker.
Hop groaned and a shot of fresh precome landed on his abs.
“Oh, this is going to be too easy.” Rafe’s laugh was sheer triumph. He cupped Hop’s balls in his big hand. “Look at you, already about to burst.” Tug. Twist.
Hop panted and tipped his head back.
“What a picture you make, so expectant and wild, if we have an audience they won’t want to look away.” Rafe’s wicked hand moved to his cock and polished the head with precome—round and round and round, never touching anything else.
“Bastard.” Hop’s body was a livewire, arcing and shooting sparks from every cell.
Again with the self-satisfied laugh. “You’re lucky I have something to prove, otherwise I might tease you all night and drive you to work with a butt plug in your ass and strict instructions not to come.”