Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Your ass was made to take my dick,” he rasps out, brown eyes liquid fire. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
You’d think we’d been parted for years not days, but it sure as hell feels like it.
I dig my heels into his ass, drawing him closer. His lips find mine for an intoxicating kiss. He keeps his thrusts into me hard, but each time he pulls out, he does it in a slow, reverent way. His hand that’s still slick from lube wraps around my dick, teasing and taunting with each languid stroke.
“You kill me,” I groan, my fingers biting into his hard biceps.
“Don’t die on me, Dante,” he croons. “I’m just getting started with you.”
I hate the way his words make me feel. Fucking hopeful. Like he might suddenly get over his fear of what others think and claim me as his. That we could be a real couple—more solid than what my ex and I could have ever had.
Our time for talking is over. The kiss we share is soul-consuming. He drives into me harder and harder, his moans growing louder with each passing moment. I come without warning, hot cum spilling over my abs. It set him off as well because within two thrusts, he’s chasing after me. He falls against my chest, both of us panting heavily.
“Dante?”
The way he says my name is filled with such sadness and desperation, my heart cracks down the middle, allowing every imperfect part of him to flood inside and drown me.
“Yeah, baby?”
He sighs happily, his lips brushing along the column of my neck. “Please give me another chance.”
“This was supposed to be just sex,” I remind him, hating how the words sound on my tongue. “It was fine when we were just fucking, but everything’s getting messy now.”
“We won’t have to live in secret much longer.” His dick slides out of me, making me wince, and he sits up, dark eyes probing me. “I promise. Just…just give me some time to work it all out. Please.”
I close my eyes, breaking his stare. “I’ll run you back to your Tahoe.”
Silence.
“Yeah, sure, okay,” he finally croaks out, defeat in his tone. “As long as this is just goodbye for now, we can figure out the rest later.”
“Goodbye for now.”
I throw both of us that bone, because despite the warning bells going off in my head, all I can think about is having Jaxson Bell sooner rather than later.
“Dante’s depressed,” Callan tattles over a mouthful of bacon.
I shoot him the bird. “Thanks, you little shit.”
“Depressed?” Shelly pokes her head out of the kitchen. “What? Why? Tell us what’s wrong.”
Callan laughs. “And Shelly’s in love.”
“Callan!” she shrieks, dropping a fresh plate of pancakes on the table. “I am not. It’s called a date, dummy.”
“Do you bring your contractor into your bed after all your dates?” Callan asks, his brow lifted in amusement.
Her face turns bright red and she shoots me a helpless look.
“You’re sleeping with Hans?” I bark out a laugh. “I thought you hated that guy.”
“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” she grumbles, jerkily forking several pancakes onto her plate. “He crossed over it when I wasn’t looking.”
“You two really ought to keep it down,” Callan gripes. “No one wants to hear their sister get fucked.”
Callan and I both grimace while Shelly burns brighter with embarrassment.
“My sex life isn’t up for discussion,” she clips out, pointing her fork at me. “Back to your depression. What’s wrong?”
I groan, choosing to stuff more eggs into my mouth so I don’t have to answer her. They’re both staring at me expectantly as I swallow down my food.
“My dating life is a mess, but I’ll sort it out eventually,” I throw out. “What about you, little brother? You’re awfully happy lately, which really contradicts your emo vibe.”
He flings a pancake at me. It lands perfectly in the middle of my plate. Smirking at him, I start buttering it, waiting for him to spill.
“I really like a guy at school. He’s hot, but he’s not into me like that.” He shrugs, breaking eye contact.
This sounds familiar.
It better not be Zak.
One Kincaid messing around with a Bell is enough. Two is a recipe for disaster.
“Zak?” Shelly asks.
Callan laughs. “No. I mean, I like Zak. As a friend. We’re just not compatible in that way.”
“And you know this because…” Shelly encourages.
“Because we fucked around and it was just okay. I mean, we both got off, but there weren’t any sparks or anything.”
I choke on my bite of pancake and Shelly groans.
“What?” Callan asks, his eyes lit up with mischief. “You two asked for details.”
“Not explicit ones,” Shelly throws back.
“Explicit would be if I told you how I sucked his d—”
“La-la-la!” Shelly squeals. “I can’t hear you.”
Callan cracks up laughing. “Zak was just curious, you know? I thought he should practice with someone he knows and trusts. You know, in case he really isn’t gay. I wanted to save him the embarrassment later.”