Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
As the strong minty flavor mixed with the taste of their mutual passion, Ansel’s dick gave a desperate twitch. The kiss was too all consuming, too dangerous. If he forgot his head for one single breath he’d be lost forever. It was the edge he knew so well, the fine line he’d been walking his whole life. Everything he’d ever secretly desired, wished for, ached for, bled for, was all suddenly within reach. He just didn’t know if he had the courage to reach out and grab it.
And if he did, he was pretty sure it would suffocate the life out of him.
When he finally pulled back, Fitch stared into his eyes.
“There will be a next time.” Fitch’s deep, lust-filled voice tickled all of Ansel’s fantasies.
He swallowed. Every time he’d let a man believe he was a girl he’d gotten this same rush—the high giddiness that poured through him and made his limbs lighter than air. The unknown danger, the deception, the challenge, it was all intoxicating. But there was no deception here. The only challenge was with himself. The only danger would be holding on to his heart.
With a shuddering breath, he nodded, even though he already knew he could never see Fitch again after tonight. Not if he wanted to keep his world intact.
Chapter Fourteen
Fitch wasn’t a huge believer in God or fate—another secret he kept from his mom and his pastor—but there was something greater than himself pushing him toward Ansel. Maybe there was a lesson he needed to learn.
Maybe it was something else he couldn’t put into words.
For whatever reason, the idea of never seeing Ansel again had caused his gut to seize up in knots and his brain to malfunction. He needed to follow where this attraction led.
Fitch pressed his lips to the corner of Ansel’s mouth and relaxed his hold.
“Good. I’m glad we cleared that up. My cock is aching to get inside you.” Revelation of all revelations, that was. No matter how often he’d tried to imagine being with Ansel over the past couple days, he’d never thought he could want inside another man this much.
So much it hurt.
Ansel’s breathy laugh warmed his cheek as he shook his head. “And I thought I was insatiable.”
Fitch crooned and reached around to palm the smooth globes of Ansel’s ass. “You get me all worked up, Angel.”
“Oh honey, I’m not an angel. If anything, I’m the wickedest devil you’ve ever met. There is nothing innocent or pure about me.” To emphasize his statement, Ansel wiggled on his lap.
“I’d argue, but right now my brain has turned to pudding.”
Ansel laughed like he’d won the argument, and resumed his preparations. “Point proven.”
“I’ll agree to whatever you say if you’ll just shut up and sit on my dick.”
This time, Ansel threw his head back and chuckled to the ceiling, a laugh that vibrated all points of contact. Jesus, Fitch couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun during sex. Yeah, it had always felt amazing, but had he ever been so relaxed? So playful? His smile stretched so wide his cheeks ached, and he had the foolish desire to pause time and lock this moment away in a bottle. His spirit felt light. He’d be content to never move.
Then Ansel sighed, pulled his fingers out, and met Fitch’s eyes with that wicked smirk.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Angel, I could ask you the same thing.”
Ansel’s eyes narrowed at the nickname. He shoved Fitch back to the mattress with a guttural growl. “This is not my first show, Grumpy Bear.”
Ansel picked up the tissue and cleaned his fingers.
“Mine either, Angel.”
“Stop calling me that.” His fingers dug into Fitch’s chest as he adjusted position.
“I don’t know—you’re sexy when you’re pissed off.”
Those sinfully paint-smudged lips tightened. Fitch stretched his arms above his head and tilted his hips up so his erection brushed against Ansel’s crease. The contact caused a shiver to rack his slender body and a breath escaped from his parted pink lips. Ansel closed his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to regain focus.
“Damn, I almost forgot the condom. Where’d it go?” Ansel searched the bed frantically.
Fitch joined in, his hands feeling over the sheets on either side of his torso until he slid over the cool packet.
“Here.” Fitch tore it open, and Ansel shuffled back so he could roll it on.
Fitch grabbed the lube and pumped a couple squirts onto the latex. Ansel had been too distracted to stretch properly and he didn’t want to hurt him. If he were any kind of gentleman, he’d take a breath and make sure his lover was fully adjusted. But his blood was pounding in his ears, and by Ansel’s ragged breaths he knew his dancer wouldn’t stand for more delays.
“Come here,” he said, pulling Ansel back into position straddling his hips, hovering over his straining cock.