Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
That he—just the way he was—could never be as good as them because of the way they believed.
And he’d bought it, deep down on a level that comes from true brainwashing. He’d bought it. That he was worthless. His friendship with Lucas had kept a part of his belief in people alive. That had been his salvation and in a sense, his shame. To lean so hard on another person made him feel weak. There were times, he backed away from Lucas and each time, his friend pulled him back in close and held on until he remembered that someone did care.
But then, Rowe and later Ian had come along and Snow felt he had a real family. Maybe he hadn’t had the intimacy that came with a lover, but he’d had people he loved who loved him in return. Seeing pictures of his family stretched across that dirty wall had filled him with terror.
Seeing that picture of Jude had sent him racing back here.
His stomach lurched and all he wanted in that moment was the man sleeping in that ridiculously small apartment. He’d pulled Jude into this contaminated situation and he’d done nothing but come through for Snow. And for his friends. He’d be doing the man a favor if he just broke things off. But he couldn’t. While the thought of opening his heart up completely scared the shit out of him, he knew he had no choice.
It was already too late. He loved him.
He’d never felt the kind of all-encompassing joy that filled him when he was around Jude. And especially when the man touched him. There was something in his touch, a sort of reverence that Snow didn’t think he deserved. But he wanted it with every fiber of his being. He somehow knew he’d never feel like a ghost with Jude around.
Pulling Jude’s keys from his pocket, he shook his head. He’d planned to come back or he wouldn’t have taken the keys. And now that he’d seen the…absolute sickening images in that place…
Before he could give in to the bile rising in his throat again, he scrambled out of his car and ran up the narrow stairwell to Jude’s apartment.
He quietly let himself in and then just stood beside the bed. The man was stretched fully into the spot Snow had left, his arms around the pillow Snow had been using, the covers only up to his waist. His broad back looked inviting. Just like it had earlier, Snow’s heart skipped a beat. He needed to let the horror of the last hour go and knew that this man’s strong arms would help. He craved that intimacy he was finding with Jude.
Snow stripped off his clothes, not caring that they dropped in a heap. Crawling into the bed, he pulled the covers over them both, then snuggled up behind Jude. He propped himself up with one hand, and let the other stroke down the warm, smooth skin of Jude’s back. He leaned over, stretching so he could press his lips to the new scruff on the man’s cheek. He felt the sleepy smile against his lips.
“General, your hand is fucking freezing.”
His voice, a sleepy rumble, rolled through Snow. He closed his eyes and pressed closer, unashamedly stealing the man’s warmth because like before, it came with that happiness that Snow wasn’t sure how to fully accept. It helped to lessen his grief, his worry—it grounded him. How this stubborn man had managed to crawl so fully inside Snow baffled him. And he was absolutely terrified he would mess it up.
“Hey, you okay?” His soft question came with a slight turn that pushed his backside fully against Snow. Jude chuckled. “Your whole body is cold. Where’d you go?”
Snow didn’t pull away; instead he slid his hand around Jude’s hip and wrapped his fingers around Jude’s already hard dick. “I’ll warm up fast.”
Jude shifted under Snow’s arm, tucking his body fully into Snow’s. “Where did you go?” he repeated, frowning as he stared over his shoulder into Snow’s face. He reached back with one hand, stroking the skin of Snow’s hip.
“I’ll tell you later.” Snow pressed into him, letting him feel how hard he made him, slipping one knee between Jude’s so the man was forced to raise one leg and brace his foot on the bed. He slowly ground into him. He wanted slow. He wanted soft touches. Wanted that connection he was starting to accept as permanent. And when Jude groaned and undulated against him, Snow wanted to map every inch of the man’s body with his hands and his mouth. He wanted to feel him inside and out, brand his stamp onto him so he never wanted anyone else.
Instead of that thought scaring him, it raised a burning need to make that happen. And to make himself the kind of man who deserved Jude.