Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Are you off work tomorrow?” Rayne asked softly.
Mike looked at him in a way that caused the residual fear he held inside to dissolve until all that was left was the intensity of Mike’s presence. Now that Rayne was safe inside and the garage door was whirring closed, his anxiety began to wane. There’d been no sirens, police stops, roadblocks, or helicopter searchlights looking for them. Mike had promised him he’d be okay, and so far, he hadn’t broken his word.
“I can bring your bags up to your room for you,” Mike offered as he went to the truck bed, his eyes widening at the sight of all the luggage. “You don’t travel light, do you?”
Rayne ducked his head so Mike didn’t see his embarrassment. Oftentimes, the sight of his massive wardrobe overwhelmed anyone that agreed to let him move in with them. It looked as if he was about to take over every closet in the house and then ask to have one built on.
“Hey.” Mike touched his shoulder, but the heat of the contact was gone too fast. “I was joking. It’s not that… much.”
Rayne scoffed. “Now who’s lying?”
A warmness glowed in Mike’s eyes as he curled his lips into a fraction of a smile. Whatever he’d thought in that moment didn’t have to be voiced; Rayne still felt it. Mike opened the door to the house and flicked on a light switch. “Why don’t you just bring in what you need for tonight, and tomorrow, we can bring in the rest? You look like you need some sleep and some time alone.”
“No,” Rayne blurted, sounding too loud in the dimly lit hall. He lowered his voice. “I don’t want that at all.”
“Are you hungry?” Mike asked. He walked them through what must be the formal dining room, but there were no table or chairs for eating. Instead, an L-shaped desk sat in the corner, cluttered with so much paperwork and folders that Rayne didn’t know how the person found the keyboard to use the old computer sitting on top.
“No, thank you. My stomach is all over the place,” Rayne admitted. “I’ll have a bottle of water… if you have it. If not, I can—”
“Yes. I have water.”
Mike turned on the recessed lights in the kitchen, and Rayne was stunned at how clean and organized everything was. There weren’t many appliances on the countertops, which led Rayne to believe that Mike was more of a takeout kind of guy. Maybe I can help with that. The kitchen didn’t appear to be used much, but Rayne loved to cook. He’d just never had access to a nice kitchen.
He couldn’t see around the corner into the living room or where the stairs were that led to the second floor, but what he did notice was that Mike wasn’t big on decorating. The walls were completely bare of any artwork, pictures, or color.
Mike opened the refrigerator, and Rayne caught a glimpse of a couple of condiments on the door, but mostly bottles of water and Heineken beers took up all four rows. Mike handed him a bottle of water and opened a beer for himself. Rayne didn’t even have his cap all the way off before Mike had gulped half his brew down. Maybe I’m not the only one nervous about all this. Mike had to be a little shocked that he now had a new roommate in his nice, quiet home. A sex addict roommate. One that was beginning to struggle with cravings. Mike’s throat worked as he drank, and Rayne’s mouth watered, but it wasn’t for the H2O in his hand. He stared at Mike’s oil-black shirt that clung to the hard lines and dips of his torso in perfect detail.
Oh, fuck me. Not now. Rayne turned around and set the bottle of water on the counter, his cock pulsing behind his zipper. He gripped the edges until his fingers began to hurt. This wasn’t his plan. He was supposed to somehow get Mike to fall in love with him, but now… now he may have blown it.
It was silent except for the quiet hum of the refrigerator and Rayne’s labored breaths. He’d been standing there so long with nothing to say that he began to feel foolish. He was about to turn and ask where the bathroom was when a solid heat pressed against his back. Mike buried his nose in his hair, his lips brushing against his earlobe.
Ignoring his quickening heartbeat, Rayne stood to his full height and tilted his head back and to the side. Mike curled one hand over his exposed throat while the other anchored his hip. His touch was sin and paradise all rolled into one.
“Mike,” Rayne groaned, his voice husky with emotion.
“I warned you about saying my name like that, didn’t I?” Mike growled past a tight jaw. He turned Rayne in his arms and pulled him in tight to his chest. He trembled as Mike’s mouth hovered an inch above his own.