Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
You’re going to sleep with it, aren’t you? Bury your face in it and jerk off thinking of Jeremy, thinking of what you could be doing if you were brave enough to pursue him.
I hated how right that sarcastic voice in my head was.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you next week then.” I wanted to ask to see Jeremy the next day.
"Yes, that sounds good.”
What else could I say? I’d be seeing Jeremy because I was coming to clean his house, not for a date. This night was a fluke. “Sleep well.”
Jeremy gave me a look. That wasn’t really longing in his eyes, was it? I was imagining things in the dark.
“You too,” Jeremy said as he opened his door and stepped out of the truck.
“You… uh… want me to walk you up?” Fucking hell! Could I sound like more of an idiot? Jeremy wasn’t a girl, and this wasn’t 1958, even if his sweater did come from that year.
Jeremy leaned into the truck, seeming to study me. Checking for signs of sanity? I cursed the darkness, wanting to read Jeremy’s expression.
“The place does get a bit spooky sometimes,” Jeremy said. “But I doubt there’s anything to worry about. Of course, if it were haunted, that would be perfect. A writer living in an old, haunted house. What inspiration!”
“US Marines don’t receive training for supernatural encounters, sir. There’s another division for that, but if I told you about them, I’d have to kill you.” I couldn’t hold back my laugh.
Jeremy’s laugh echoed in the small space. “No chance I can get it out of you?” he asked.
Jeremy could get just about anything out of me with hardly any effort at all, but I played along, shaking my head. “My lips are sealed.” Thank God Jeremy hadn’t been spooked by my ridiculous suggestion.
“Too bad.”
It was, or rather it was bad that my lips weren’t sealed around Jeremy’s cock. What the hell? Where had that thought come from? I’d never sucked a guy off before. I’d fantasized about taking a man’s thick, firm flesh in my mouth, making my partner release the desperate sounds I often bit back during a blow job. I’d thought about being the guy on his knees with another man’s hands clutched in his hair, but I was too much of a coward to try it.
You wouldn’t be with Jeremy, though, would you?
I didn’t think I would. I trusted Jeremy.
“I’ll see you soon.” Jeremy closed the passenger door and started toward his porch.
“Good night,” I called through the open window.
“Night.” Jeremy waved, then disappeared inside.
Follow him.
I shook my head. I’d love to. Even if we didn’t fuck each other, I could listen to Jeremy recite Shakespeare all night. An image flashed into my head of Jeremy spread out in bed, quoting Shakespeare as I sucked him. Jesus, the things I found hot since I’d met Jeremy: crazy socks, cardigans, Shakespeare. What would be next?
I shouldn’t even think about it. My cock was already fully hard, pressing against my fly, begging for some relief. Relief that wasn’t going to come from Jeremy’s soft hands, his plump lips, or his ass. I sighed and put the truck in gear. For now, my own hand would have to be enough.
9
Jeremy
Ideliberately left the house before Connor and Sabrina arrived for the weekly cleaning. I’d scheduled them for noon, so I’d been able to sleep in and make myself a luxurious breakfast, but I was too nervous to wait around and face Connor. Had I imagined the sexual tension between us at the play? I’d been so sure Connor was into me that night that I’d almost invited him in when he brought me home.
I regretted not accepting Connor’s offer to walk me to the door. If I’d said yes, I could have… What? Kissed him? Yanked him inside? Jumped him? That’d be a great way to get punched if I were reading things wrong. No, Connor wouldn’t hit me. He might never speak to me again, but he’d never hurt me physically.
It was stupid, but I’d hoped Connor would be so eager to see me again that he’d call, but he hadn’t. Of course, he hadn’t. He was straight, and we weren’t even really friends, were we?
Get it together, Jer. I could hear David scolding me. I’d mentioned to David how hot Connor was, but I hadn’t said more. If I did, David would be all over my case about crushing on a straight guy. Why couldn’t I like a guy who was available?
I planned to spend the afternoon at a wine bar/used bookstore located in the vibrant downtown area. The poet in my novel would’ve loved the place. I ordered a cheese plate and a glass of wine and settled on a sofa where I could spread out my notes. If I ignored that I was typing on a laptop, I could imagine myself back in the nineteenth century.