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)
On the last stroke, Ansel pulled back just a little. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For tonight, for being right, for trying to protect me.”
“You don’t need protecting, Angel.”
“No, I don’t. But you tried and it meant a lot.”
Fitch smoothed both palms down Ansel’s hair. “It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped it would be. I’m sorry about the drama.”
One corner of Ansel’s mouth tipped up. “Are you kidding? That was pie compared to what I’m used to.”
“You were amazing.”
Ansel blinked and rested his forehead on Fitch’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just stayed there, tucked into Fitch’s neck. His scent drifted up, surrounding them both. Fitch wrapped his arms around him and held him close.
“My parents like you. And you know my sister is your biggest fan.” He felt Ansel’s smile.
“I like them too.”
Having Ansel in his apartment, being together with his family, he began imagining what the rest of their lives might be like, and it became everything he wanted. Everything there was.
If only he could convince Ansel they could make it work.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“And this is where wishes are granted.” Fitch flicked on the bedroom light and allowed Ansel to enter first. It wasn’t fancy. He wasn’t the decorator Ansel was, but it was clean. The king-size bed took up most of the floor space. He’d changed the sheets and used his black comforter instead of the ancient plaid one. He’d set a few candles on the side tables, and while Ansel wandered to the dresser to look at the pictures displayed, Fitch lit them.
“Wishes? You think you’re some kind of fairy godmother?”
Fitch tucked the lighter back into his pocket. “More like the genie in a bottle. Rub me just right and I’ll make all your dreams come true.” He wiggled his eyebrows and felt his heart lift when Ansel laughed and punched his shoulder playfully.
“Someone has a dangerously inflated ego.” The candlelight danced across Ansel’s pale skin and made his eyes twinkle, or maybe that was happiness, Fitch couldn’t be sure.
Pulling on Ansel’s tie, Fitch said, “Should I reenact my Ansel Becke orgasm impression?”
That killer smirk flashed. “Not if you want to live.”
He teased his fingers between the edge of Ansel’s top and the waist of his pants. “You’re the one questioning my ample abilities.”
“I think there are other ways you can prove your power.” Ansel pressed his body closer and reached down to palm Fitch’s groin.
“I love the way your mind works,” he said with an involuntary flex of his hips.
Ansel hummed and nuzzled the soft skin behind his ear. “That’s the second time you used the L-word. If I didn’t know better I might get certain ideas.” Ansel’s tone was teasing, but his words took hold of every muscle in Fitch’s body and held him immobile.
Ansel was pressed so tightly against him, he must have sensed the tension because he pulled back with a sardonic smirk.
“Don’t worry, Grumpy Bear. I’m just kidding. I know it was only another figure of speech.”
Figure of speech. Yeah. Fitch consciously relaxed his shoulders and forced out a laugh.
“I guess I’d better dust off my thesaurus. Wouldn’t want you to get any notions in that pretty little head of yours.” The fake pretentiousness colored his tone just enough to make Ansel chuckle. At the sound, Fitch breathed a little easier.
“Too late, I’ve got all kinds of notions. But they mainly center on your lips, and your hands, and your big, beautiful cock.”
Awkward revelation avoided, yet again, Fitch let himself smile. “Now that is something I can get behind.”
Ansel leaned forward again and sucked his earlobe, grazing his teeth against the flesh as he pulled away.
“You sure?” Ansel whispered, teasing his tongue around the shell.
Fitch felt that sultry tug like an electric spark and he moaned. Barely able to breathe, he pushed out, “Oh yeah, one hundred percent,” before he captured his lover’s lips and devoured him.
Ansel’s familiar taste was hidden behind the bitterness of coffee and the sweetness of cheesecake, so Fitch deepened the kiss to chase it down. Like his lover’s scent, he wanted to drown in the flavor. It was spicy and sweet and completely addicting. As he swept his tongue in, dueling with Ansel’s equally desperate tongue, he gripped his lover’s firm hips. They ground together, wrapped in a lust that was both terrifying in its intensity and soothing in its intimacy.
It was silly to project his own feelings onto something as simple as a kiss, but he ached to believe that Ansel might feel the same. And even if he didn’t now, Fitch needed to have hope that Ansel could eventually come to around to it.
Love. It was big. Big and fucking scary. He’d always imagined settling down, getting married, and having enough babies to satisfy his mother. But as he considered that future against one spent with the man in his arms it paled in comparison. Even if they never had kids, even if they never tied the knot, even if he never heard the words he ached to hear, Ansel was the option that gave his life color.