Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
It was like the real me was back again.
The Emmett Waycott who really did get along with anyone.
Who could make friends with Storm—could really want to make friends with him—and see him like I saw everyone else.
Someone even more special than everyone else, really.
I grabbed spare clean clothes for him and headed back to the bathroom. When I walked in, he was stripping off the last of his clothes, turned toward the tub. His ass was perfect, of course, but even the planes of muscle on his back and the sides of his body were outrageously good.
And if my cock had been at half-mast before, it was fully hard now.
God damn, it was really like catching sight of an Olympian.
“Your body is incredible,” I blurted out. “Sorry. Not trying to objectify you.”
“Please do,” he said, turning forward toward me and showing off his cock.
I swallowed. Even when his cock wasn’t hard, it was so long and thick. Resting there against the side of his thigh and making my fucking mouth water.
Heat rushed through me. I went to set down the towel and spare clothes on the teakwood bench beside the tub.
I cleared my throat. “Take as long as you want in here. Feel at home, Storm. I hope it’s as relaxing as you need.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re not getting in with me?”
My heart lurched.
He wasn’t just adorable. He had himself wrapped around my heart, just with one sweet look.
It’s one thing to enjoy kissing him. It’s another to fall for him.
Falling for Storm Rosling would be like wishing for the impossible. Not going to happen.
Wishes like that only lead to hurt.
“This was just for you,” I said. “I wanted you to feel comfortable, and relax.”
“You need to relax too, though,” he protested.
“I didn’t know if you’d want—”
“I really want,” he said forcefully. “I want you, Emmett.”
Lava flooded through me.
If I had a dime for each of the lonely nights I’d had over the past couple of years, wishing and hoping that anyone, ever, could say something like that to me again.
“You don’t know what you want,” I said, my voice coming out a little broken, like even I didn’t believe what I was saying.
“Fuck. Off,” he said slowly, his voice dropping lower. “I think I’ve considered it plenty by now, Emmett, and I don’t think I’m straight. I want you every fucking time I see you.”
I swallowed past a tightness in my throat as he took a step closer to me. “You shouldn’t want me.”
“Don’t think I agree with you there,” he said softly. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t want you.”
“Damaged goods,” I said helplessly, looking up to meet his eyes.
“If that’s what you are, then I’ll have some good company,” he said in a low voice, his eyes smoldering as they held my gaze.
I didn’t know how it was possible for one comment to shake free years of emotion from me, but sometimes, Storm seemed magic, like that. This man who’d at first seemed like he hated me to my core actually saw me to my core, and he still wanted me.
He was still here.
“Fine,” I whispered, feeling that familiar magnetic pull toward him stronger than ever. “I’ll get in the bath with you. But you have to let me have the left side jets.”
A big, beautiful, playful smile came over his face. “What’s so great about the left side?”
“Stronger jets.”
He reached out to squeeze the side of my body. “All yours.”
His hands moved toward the sides of my jacket, pulling it off for me. He draped it over the counter beside us and then undid the buttons on my shirt, one by one. When he’d taken all my clothes off and slid down my boxer briefs, my cock was so hard that it ached.
Storm looked at it, gave it a brief squeeze, and then turned to hop in the tub.
I groaned. “Tease.”
“If I start touching you now, we’ll never get in the bath, and I really want to get in this bath. Get in and I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you, I promise.”
I wasn’t going to deny him that. The two of us slowly sank into the big tub, covered in bubbles.
“Fucking perfection,” Storm said.
The tub was surrounded by tall windows at the side that looked out across the trees in my backyard. The sun had gone down, and the yard was dotted with small glowing lights.
There was a light wind, and as I glanced outside, I saw a few tiny, swirling white snowflakes in the air.
I gasped. “First snow of the season,” I said, my heart lighting up.
“No way,” he said, looking out.
“Ah. I know you hate the cold. But I love the first snow of the season.”
Storm moved closer to me in the tub, his body pushing up against the side of mine. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m a big fan of the first snow of the season when I’m seeing it like this.”