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)
“Looks like I’ll have to educate you.” He sucked on his bottom lip and looked up as he tried to remember some of the bad words he’d learned as a kid. “Let’s start with blas mein schwanz.”
Fitch’s whole body shook with quiet laughter. “Hell no, I’m not going to repeat a single thing your dirty mind comes up with. You’ll have me wishing people a pleasant pig fuck as I wave goodbye.”
Ansel hid a smile behind his hand as he blinked innocently. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me.”
“Only you would take that as a compliment.” Fitch grabbed another slice, still grinning.
“I have a lot of practice finding the positive spin when life throws you shit.”
* * *
Fitch followed Ansel up to his apartment after spending the past hour watching him stuff cheese between his lips. He’d become one sick fucker in the last few weeks.
Who had a fetish about cheese?
“Do you want something to drink?” Ansel asked, crossing to the small refrigerator in the kitchen area.
“No, thanks. There is something I need to know, though.”
“What?” Ansel leaned against the appliance.
Fitch followed. “Are we exclusive?”
Those ruby lips parted, but no sounds came out.
“I’m into you. Really fucking into you.” Fitch rubbed the back of his neck. “But I don’t sleep around. I don’t want to be wondering who else you’re screwing. I almost drove myself crazy with those thoughts this past week. If we are doing this, then I can’t have any doubts. I have to know you’re in it with me.”
Less than two feet away, it was easy to see Ansel’s pupils dilate, the tic in his jaw, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. If only Fitch could read his mind, know what he was thinking. He waited, and with each new breath, dread solidified in his gut. He’d pushed too hard. Ansel wasn’t the type to commit.
He’d come up here tonight in the hopes of having another chance to feel Ansel’s smooth, hard body against his, to get a breath of the perfume, and taste his lips. It had been idiotic to ask for assurances before getting his cock inside him. But Fitch couldn’t deny he needed it. He wasn’t sure he could stand another day, let alone another week, without knowing they were on the same page. And now, since they obviously weren’t, he could maybe move on with his life.
Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.
“Right,” Fitch said with a shake of his head. “That’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s just...” Ansel’s words were quiet, his eyes were full of dread and courage—an odd mix, intriguing. Attractive.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Ansel shut his green eyes and took a deep breath. “I do. I want what you’re offering, so much. But it terrifies me.”
Fitch closed the distance between them. He cupped Ansel’s cheek. “I’m afraid too.”
Ansel looked at him. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
Stomach twisted in knots, Fitch whispered, “Just promise me you’ll try. We’ll go from there.”
Ansel’s gaze drifted to his mouth and up to meet his eyes. “I don’t want anyone else, anyway. And, last week...I didn’t. I couldn’t—”
Fitch cut him off with the kiss he’d been waiting for since he left last week. He sucked Ansel’s full bottom lip, then licked his way inside, behind his teeth to the center of the sweet taste. Their tongues twisted, lips caressed, and teeth grazed. It was deep. It was passionate.
It was like coming home.
When he pulled back, Fitch rubbed a thumb just below Ansel’s lip to wipe away the smudged lipstick.
“You are so fucking fun to kiss.”
Chapter Twenty
Ansel couldn’t believe he’d done it. He’d actually agreed not to fuck anyone but Fitch, after two dates and one night together. His heart beat a mile a minute. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He just kept remembering why he’d called Fitch again. Why he’d taken the step toward some kind of future. He wanted...something else. Something new. And maybe that put his heart at risk, but when Fitch looked at him like that, it made him think unicorns were real and they pooped rainbows.
He just hoped that in the end he wasn’t so broken he couldn’t be repaired.
Then Fitch kissed him again and he didn’t have to hope. He’d sacrifice a hell of a lot to savor this feeling. The guy tasted like heaven. Determined to stop worrying about the future, he reached around and grabbed Fitch’s ass with one hand and snaked his other up to play with the hair at his nape. Fitch closed the small gap between them and pressed him tight against the refrigerator.
“I want you so bad,” Fitch grunted into his ear before closing his teeth on the lobe.
Ansel’s cock jumped and his hips flexed. “You have me,” he said. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” And wasn’t that a revelation? Because he meant every fucking word.