Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Arden’s shock was so great he couldn’t catch enough air to speak as Mike leaned in, bringing with him the scent of wood and cigarettes.
“This doesn’t feel gay to me.”
Arden groaned, desperately thinking un-sexy thoughts. Stacking cans of chicken soup in the shop. Lemon-flavored chewing gum. Steak and beans.
He met Mike’s gaze. “It will when I get a boner.” He needed to be real here. It was a question of when not if. And yet, despite the words coming out of his mouth, he still trailed his fingers over Mike’s shoulder.
Mike blinked, swallowed, and then leaned in closer.
For a moment, Arden’s body filled with heat. He opened his mouth, breathed in but—
Oh, hell no! If they kissed, Arden might as well pull his pants down, because he had no doubt Mike was a good kisser.
He pushed at the firm chest so abruptly, Mike let go of Arden’s other leg, leaving him off-balance for a second. He extended his arms, keeping Mike at distance even though the hot biker was now the personification of ‘horny’.
“I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but you just don’t get the hint, do you?” Harsh, but necessary. “No kissing. Even around other people. A— You stink of cigarettes. B—You’re straight. C—I don’t want to!”
Mike stalled, then lowered Arden to the floor and took a step away. “Why wouldn’t you just say so?” he asked, somewhat flushed as he pulled on a strand of hair and smelled it.
“Because sometimes saying things clearly earns you a slap, and I’m not in a position to take the fallout of a bruised ego.” Arden leaned against the wall with clenched fists. ‘Just say’. He’d been clear enough with Luke, and it had done nothing.
“I can stop smoking,” Mike said, and when Arden’s gaze briefly darted lower, he couldn’t avoid noticing that Mike’s package had grown. He wanted to see that dick so badly his salivary glands swelled.
And yet he couldn’t fucking believe Mike’s words. This guy just didn’t give up. “Then stop smoking, so we can move on to discuss point B.”
Mike grumbled like a kid who hadn’t gotten his favorite toy. “Fine. Jeez. You flirted back,” he said and led the way only two doors down the hallway. Still disgruntled, he unlocked the door, but instead of stepping in like a normal person, he gestured at Arden to enter first.
Right. Because he was such a gentleman, and Arden was a ‘lady’. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so tragic, but as soon as Arden walked inside, it became obvious living with Mike would be an enormous step up from a mattress on the floor and using a duffel bag for a wardrobe.
The walls were gray, with the exception of the one behind the massive bed, which had been painted a stark black that served as background to a white mural depicting a motorcycle rider speeding upside down inside the globe of death. A two-seater stood with its back to the bed’s footboard, facing an iron coffee table and an entertainment center with a flat screen TV and speakers. The storage furniture was made of metal as well, in a simple, industrial style, and posters depicting motorbikes and cars served as decoration.
Arden was kind of impressed that there wasn’t a single porny picture in sight, but maybe by thirty-seven, Mike had learned that those wouldn’t impress the women he brought here. No. Actually, one obscene thing was there. It was an ashtray out of all things, acid green and featuring a couple of aliens—one of which had makeup and huge boobs and the other, a huge dick—in flagrante. Mike grabbed it before Arden could have said something and tossed the thing into trash.
“An unwanted gift,” he said curtly and approached the window.
A half-open door led to a bathroom which Arden eyed with longing after having to wash in the grimy communal shower downstairs. The room carried Mike’s scent, but it wasn’t choking like some cologne-drenched spaces. And while smoke was present in the air, it was an afterthought, as if Mike only ever gave into his nicotine craving by the open window.
“Give me the key, I’ll collect your stuff,” Mike said, and for a second Arden worried Mike might have a peek into his sketchbook, but it had a lock, and he never left it out in the open anyway, so he handed over the key to the guest room he’d occupied until now.
He’d appreciate the moment alone to snoop.
Mike smirked, stealing a touch of Arden’s hand as he took it from him. “Be right back. Shall I get the mattress?”
Unbelievable.
Arden squinted. “Yes, get the mattress. Unless you’re worried that would cast a shadow of doubt on our relationship, then a blanket and pillow will do.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “I won’t let you sleep on the floor. You’re so thin you’d get bruises all over,” he said and mercifully took his sexy self outside.