Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
He removed my briefs and settled between my legs, stroking me once, twice, then bending to lick my slit.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Okay?” he asked, his fist still pumping my shaft, his lips glistening as he waited for my nod of approval.
“Yes, yes, yes. Suck my dick.”
Malcolm wrapped his lips around me, circling his tongue and flicking it on the underside. Stroking and teasing, stroking and teasing, and finally opening wide and taking my entire length in. I mean…the whole damn enchilada. And just being honest here, I was big all over. No one had ever deep-throated me with much success. Till now.
He pulled off with a slurp, using his saliva as lube to jack me while he bobbed his head, sucking me like a pro. Or someone with a ton of experience who really truly, loved being on his knees.
I had so many questions. I’d thought I had a good read on Malcolm—painfully smart, a little shy, super focused, and extra quirky—but I didn’t know shit. In all fairness, I hadn’t dared think about his sexual prowess. Why torture myself? This hadn’t been on my radar…at all.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and watched the show, admiring the freckles dusting his nose. His glasses were foggy and smudged, and that was weirdly hot, too. He ran a single digit along the sensitive skin behind my balls, tilting his head slightly…and that was a game changer. One second, I was locked in and present, the next—
“Stop. I’m gonna come.”
Malcolm didn’t stop. Just the opposite. He sucked harder, did naughty things with his tongue, and inched his finger even closer to my pucker. I couldn’t hold back.
I roared like a wild beast as I came apart, and Malcolm took it all, licking his lips, looking dazed and confused.
“I’m…that was…”
“Mmhmm.” I sat up and reached for him. “Let me help you with that.”
He stood, glancing down at the bulge in his khakis. “No, that’s okay. It’s fine. I’m…”
“Freaked out?”
“A little bit…yes. I didn’t know you were bi or interested in me. Maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re—”
“I am,” I intercepted, standing and nearly tripping over my discarded shoes and jeans next to the sofa. “I’m very interested.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. For the record, I was buck-ass naked in the middle of my living room, Malcolm was fully clothed, and neither of us had a fucking clue how to exit this scene with grace.
He broke eye contact, rescuing his computer bag and his jacket on his way to the door. “I should go and you should…ice your knee.”
I followed him. Yep…still naked. “Come back tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if that’s wise.”
“We should talk, right? Talking is wise.”
Malcolm’s lips twitched; then his gaze roamed my body and all trace of humor disappeared. He wanted me. He really fucking wanted me. But he was a lot smarter than I was. Maybe he knew it was a bad idea, and that this was a good place to say good-bye.
I held my breath and hoped for the best.
He pushed at his glasses and nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow.”
I held the door open, rubbing my stubbled jaw in a mix of disbelief and…well, we’d stick with disbelief for now. Seriously. I was in a state of shock.
Malcolm Maloney liked me.
Or…he liked my body. Same difference, right? I was going with yes, ’cause my knee was throbbing and my ego needed the boost. And I felt like I’d won the fuckin’ lottery.
I just hoped he wouldn’t change his mind about me.
CHAPTER 11
MALCOLM
Oh. My. Oh. My.
I had an intense conversation with myself all the way home. It went something like, What were you thinking? How could you? and That was incredible. And blowjobs are kind of great, and making out was fun…and he liked it.
Me too.
Me too.
But that didn’t mean it should happen again. Today’s visit was supposed to have been a good-bye, a fare-thee-well, an adios, au revoir, but by some strange magic, it had become something else. My head was spinning.
Jett Erickson was bisexual, and he was attracted to…me.
I didn’t know what to do with that information. It was a lot to ponder. I’d been nursing a crush for weeks, prolonging our association to spend time in his orbit. I’d learned hockey rules, for Pete’s sake. There was no rhyme or reason for me to know the rules of a darn face-off, but I did. It was useless trivia in my circles, but I’d hung on Jett’s every word because under his gruff persona, he was funny and charming, and I was smitten.
It didn’t seem possible that he felt the same.
Reality check, Malcolm…he doesn’t. No. Not likely.
It was more likely that Jett viewed me as a friend who happened to be gay and might be interested in a feel-good sexual exchange. The real question was…did I want another meaningless sexual encounter with a man I was dangerously infatuated with or should I do the sensible thing and sever ties to avoid future foibles on my part?