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)
I was wrecked, panting. My arms barely held me up.
Then Jeremy dragged his finger through the mess and sucked it into his mouth while keeping his eyes locked on mine.
Sweet. Fucking. Hell.
“Kiss me,” he whispered.
Nothing could have stopped me. I leaned in and tasted our come on his lips and groaned into his mouth. The kiss burned through my bones. I thought I was spent, but Jeremy lit me up again, wrapping me in a spell I didn’t want to break.
When I finally pulled away, I stared at him, lost for words. What the hell was I supposed to say? He’d cracked something open in me, shaken me down to my foundation. I felt unsteady—mentally, physically. How the hell was I supposed to go back to casual, empty hookups after this? This wasn’t sex. This was something else entirely.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes. No. I’m not going to run out on you, anyway.”
He smiled at that. “That’s good enough.”
I blurted out, “So what do we do now?” and immediately regretted it. I hadn’t meant to make it sound like what happens next between us? I didn’t know if we had a next. I just knew I didn’t want to fuck it up.
“Shower?” he offered.
He hadn’t taken the question the way I’d meant it—but I was grateful. That simple answer, something I could do, grounded me. One thing at a time. Clean up. Then maybe we’d eat. My stomach grumbled like it was trying to claw its way out of me.
“You hungry?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, I haven’t eaten anything today.”
“Wow. I’m surprised you haven’t passed out after what we just did.”
I chuckled. “I used to run ten miles before breakfast every day.”
His jaw dropped a little. “How do you do that? It’s all I can do to shower and get dressed before I eat.”
I shrugged. “I usually just run three or four miles now.”
Jeremy huffed. “You know you could have eaten when we were downstairs.”
“No, I couldn’t. I had to talk to you first.”
“And now?”
“Now? I could eat a whole batch of French toast by myself.”
He laughed, and damn, it felt good to hear it. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll see what I can do about that.”
16
Jeremy
Imeant to take a quick shower—just rinse off so I could throw something together for Connor to eat, but I kept getting distracted.
I couldn’t stop watching him, and now, I didn’t have to just look. I could touch him. Every inch of him—from the dips and curves of his ankles to the swirls of his ears and that spiky hair he still kept buzzed even after more than a year out of the Marines. I could trace him, memorize him.
He was just as hungry for me as I was for him. Even though I hadn’t quite recovered enough to get hard again, Connor didn’t seem to care about lunch anymore. He kissed his way down my body, and I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to be ready again if he kept that up.
Then he did something I never expected—he dropped to his knees in front of me, water cascading over his broad, muscled back. He used a soapy cloth to wash my chest, my exhausted cock and balls, my legs, and even my feet. His shoulders flexed under the spray, looking so strong and so goddamn lickable, but what really got me was the vulnerability I still saw in him. Even now.
That vulnerability shattered every stereotype I’d ever had about military guys. Connor wasn’t some emotionless soldier. He’d been through hell—physical for sure, but also mental, emotional. I didn’t know all the details, but I didn’t need them to see the damage. Fuck, I wanted to help him. I wanted to help myself. The question was, could we actually pull it together enough to make something real out of this? Did Connor even want that?
When the water ran cold, Connor stood and reached behind him to shut it off. I stepped out and grabbed towels for both of us. As I dried off and finally started to warm up again, all I wanted was to drag him back into bed, wrap us both in the blankets, and stay there, skin to skin, until we were ready to go another round. If we stayed buried under the covers, maybe the world would leave us the hell alone. Maybe we’d stop feeling so different from each other. Maybe Connor would stop hiding and—
Yes. No. That wasn’t going to happen.
“I’ll grab some clothes, then get us something to eat,” I said, trying to sound casual. “We can take it out on the balcony if that’s okay with you.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind me staying.”
“I want you to stay.” I meant it. But it still came out stiff, like I was trying too hard. Why did things suddenly feel awkward between us? What if it only felt right when we were fucking?