The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
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He lets go of my dick, reaches for the lube, then returns to me. There’s a click, then a squeeze of the bottle. His lips wrap around my cock again. His tongue flicks along my shaft as his fingers press in.

Sensations whip through me. The dark, dizzying pressure inside. The lush intensity of his mouth. My desire for more gathers like a storm.

More contact. More him. Just . . . more.

My hands wrap around his head as he draws me deep. I gaze down at the sight of him, his beard brushing my thigh, his lips stretched wide, my cock filling his mouth.

All while he fucks my ass with his fingers. Adrenaline pulses everywhere inside me. And still I want more.

“Get in me,” I demand.

TJ slows and lets me fall from his mouth, and when he does, I grab a condom and open it quickly. As he rolls it down his length, I get on my hands and knees.

He palms my ass, squeezes hard. “Yes. Fucking yes. Need to be in you now.”

Seconds later, he lines up, and sinks inside. I catch my breath, gritting my teeth as I adjust.

Soon enough, the hint of pain abates, and it’s only good.

Only lust.

Only the best sex I’ve ever had as I tell him what I want, when I want it, how I want it.

As I order him around while we fuck, I ask for everything I crave, and he gives it. His hand on my cock, his body covering mine, his arm wrapped like a vise around my chest.

When I demand he get me there, he does. Oh yes, he fucking does, with his fist shuttling along my length till we both come hard.

Once again.

Then, we shower, dress, and head out for breakfast. It feels like the start of a perfect day.

34

THINGS I’VE DONE

TJ

There’s a lot to learn.

For instance, I never knew Jude liked kale so much. But he’s actually eating it for breakfast, along with his egg-white omelet.

“I feel like you were a toast guy before,” I say as I dig into eggs and potatoes.

He groans. “Do not mention that four-letter word.”

“Toast is five letters, honey,” I tease.

“C-A-R-B,” he says as the sun streaks through his hair at the sidewalk café.

“Ah,” I say, after I finish a bite. “Let me guess. You’re not allowed to eat anything except kale, eggs, mangoes, and chia seeds.”

He points dramatically with his fork. “Blueberries! Do not try to take my blueberries away from me. I can eat those too.”

I take another bite of my eggs. “I almost feel guilty about the pizza I had in New York before I left.”

He growls, his eyes narrowed. “I warned you. Carb is a dirty word. I must pretend pizza doesn’t exist.”

“I’m pretty good at putting my head in the sand, but there’s no way I could even imagine a world without pizza,” I say, as I wave my fork at him and his toned physique. “But I get it. You probably have to maintain a strict regime and whatnot.”

“I do,” he says, but shrugs happily. “It is what it is. I kind of did a whole reboot a couple years ago, and that was part of it.”

He must mean those two years when I didn’t see him in anything. “Do you mean after Our Secret Courtship? What happened there with your character?”

His expression shifts, a hard edge in his eyes I’m not used to seeing. Then it disappears, replaced by a breezy grin. “Creative differences,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “But by reboot I meant I switched agents. I’m with the Astor Agency now. And when I signed, we went over everything I needed to do to get to the next level. All the things, from kale to auditions.”

“Was the other guy not cutting it? Harry, was it?”

Jude frowns. “Harry and I didn’t part on the best of terms.”

I don’t like the sound of that. “What did he do to you, and do I need to take out a hit on him?”

He sets down his fork, sighing, then glances around. The café is bustling. At the table behind us, a woman in pink yoga pants slips a piece of ham to a chihuahua in a handbag. By the door, a pair of young moms try to get a toddler to eat eggs. Jude lowers his voice. “Look, I know you’ll understand because of the whole chicken cook wanker.” Normally, I don’t like to be reminded of Flynn. But if Jude’s gearing up to tell me something, it’s probably something I want to know. Since, well, I want to know him. “My agent screwed this guy I was seeing. It was a whole terrible mess.”

Good thing I’m not eating this second because my jaw drops. Anger courses through me. “I’ll take out a double hit then. That’s terrible.”


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