Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
It wasn’t fair that someone be that polished and clean while Waylan was a walking heap of dirt and shame.
His first thought when he’d gotten a good look at the man wasn’t Who is he? It’d been Don’t look at me.
He’d wanted to shrink and vanish beneath the blankets because beautiful men like that didn’t look at him unless it was with mild sympathy…or disgust.
He hadn’t known Clarence long, but he had mentioned his wealthy benefactor.
Clarence had neglected to tell him his benefactor was a man with the face of an angel and the soul of a star.
It’d been ages since anyone had stirred feelings of need inside him. He hated how quickly it all came rushing back—the flutter in his chest, the ache between his…
Waylan thought that part of him had died when his heart was left at an empty altar on his wedding day.
God, why now? Why when I have nothing left inside?
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. Why was the universe mocking him? Dangling something in his face that he could never have.
End of Season Two Episode Two
Season 2, Episode 3
A Safe Haven
Belladonna Mansion
Jonah’s Room
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 2nd, 1:36 p.m.
Ross had spent most of his childhood convinced he was unlovable. Not because of his dejected attitude or foul mouth, but because of what and who he was.
A fatherless, broke kid with the ragged shoes, split to the soles. The stinky one who showed up to school with matted, unwashed hair because the water in their run-down apartment was off more often than on. His face had been a battlefield of acne, his frame too thin from meals that were often skimpy if not missed. His old clothes were infused with a chemical tang from the kerosene his mom used in the heater to warm them when the electric had been disconnected.
He used to loathe the expressions in his teachers’ eyes—he preferred outright disdain over the pity.
Ross remembered when his mother had remarried, sacrificing herself to a man with money so her children wouldn’t starve anymore.
For the first time in fourteen years, he could eat without begging and focus on catching up in school instead of falling further than the three grades he was already behind.
But even in that shiny new neighborhood, Ross had felt average at best—unremarkable features, awkward, still gangly, and convinced no one would ever be interested.
No one except Jonah. Jonah, who had seen past the poverty, past the acne, past the hand-me-down rags, and made him believe—for three blissful years—that he was worth something.
Jonah gazed at him as if he were made of starlight and treated him as if he hung the moon and stars when no one else gave him a second glance. Jonah had met his emptiness with compassion.
Steam curled around them, veiling the walls of the shower like a dreamscape.
It was after one in the afternoon, and Ross still couldn’t believe this was real. Jonah was back in his arms, warm and solid, his broad back pressed against his chest under the hot water.
Six years. Six goddamn years of emptiness, of trying to fill a void with work, with men who could never touch his heart. Now, the missing part of him was here, slippery and wet, sighing into his touch.
Ross’s throat tightened as he ran the loofah over Jonah’s shoulders and down the expanse of his back.
Soft muscles and smooth skin quivered beneath his palm. His sweet man wasn’t as comfortable in his nakedness as he’d once been. Ross could feel the hesitation, every stiff breath, every twitch of insecurity. Years of abuse and shame had carved deep trenches inside his Jonah, but he was determined to fill them with nothing but tenderness and admiration.
He leaned forward, kissing Jonah’s damp neck, inhaling the faint scent of soap and heated skin.
“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he whispered against his pulse, letting his lips linger.
“Stop it, Ross,” Jonah sighed, lowering his head as if he just couldn’t believe those words…not even from him.
He wrapped both arms around Jonah, locking him inside a circle of his truth, and slowly began to grind his cock against his plump ass. The friction was maddening as he slid back and forth between his cheeks.
Jonah whimpered.
God, those little sounds. They shot down Ross’s spine like electricity, setting his groin on fire.
He pressed his lips behind Jonah’s ear, his voice rough with need and devotion.
“I’ll never leave you again. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find a way for us to be together, Bear. You’ve always been the one I wanted. Always have been, always will be.”
Jonah shuddered as he tipped his head back onto Ross’s shoulder.
“But your mom…she still relies on you.” His words were hesitant on his trembling lips. “I don’t mind, um, I can…I can put in a transfer to the Charlotte division.”