Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Better than the year you got a mountain bike? Or one of your mom’s chocolate cakes?” Linc scoffed. “Doubt that.”
“Maybe I appreciate things more now. And if you want her cake, you need to come Sunday. I told her I want German chocolate this year. Surely you can put up with being social twice in a weekend.”
“Yeah. I suppose I can. For you.” Linc looped an arm around Jacob’s shoulders, pulled him close. He was warm and solid and smelled like his usual classic soap with a tangy undercurrent of shaving cream. Liking the idea of Linc getting ready for this, like a real date, Jacob’s blood rushed south. He pressed a kiss to Linc’s smooth neck, trying to do a better job of showing Linc how much this meant to him.
Linc plotting all this out had to mean he felt some of what Jacob did every single time their lips met—that this was more than convenience, more than scratching an itch, more than some secret fuck-buddy arrangement or whatever the hell they were telling themselves that week. This was real. And big. Bigger than either of them alone. Bigger than Jacob wanted to admit, even now.
Instead he put all of that uncertainty and want into a kiss, claiming Linc’s mouth with a new desperation. And Linc met him fully, needy sigh and grasping hands, pushing the cake and the beer aside. Darkness fell in earnest. Temperatures dipped. The first flickers appeared in the sky, and still they kissed. They kissed sweet and they kissed slow and they kissed dirty. Their mouths and tongues and lips met every way two people could meet and still it wasn’t enough.
Not breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned Linc’s shirt. Soft blue cotton, vaguely Western styling, and it looked a hell of a lot better on the truck bed floor than on Linc and that was saying something. Linc was equally deft at getting Jacob out of his T-shirt, and then their bare skin met, chilly air, warm flesh, soft quilt under them as they tumbled backward. Their pants were next to go, leaving them in their boxers, Jacob wriggling into Linc for warmth as they continued to trade kisses.
“Tell me that magic bag of yours has stuff,” he panted as Linc moved from his mouth to his neck, soft little licks that wouldn’t leave a mark except on Jacob’s soul where he felt every tender gesture, every touch.
It wasn’t even that he needed to come as much as that he wanted to be with Linc, every way possible, dragging this out until the sun rose again, still kissing, still needing, still together.
“Yup.” Linc fumbled around, came up with a condom and small bottle of lube, pressed them into Jacob’s hand.
“What? You want...” His brain struggled to make sense of the gesture.
“Happy birthday.” Linc pressed another kiss to his mouth, swallowing Jacob’s gasp.
“You don’t have to...” Although he’d made passing comments about getting fucked before, Linc always seemed to have a single-minded focus on getting inside Jacob when it came to actually doing. Not that Jacob was complaining because he’d gone from ambivalent about fucking to downright craving that with Linc. This, though, was something else, less craving and more a hopeful wish, a long-held fantasy that he hadn’t ever truly thought he might get.
“Want to.” Kissing him harder, Linc drew him back down into the blanket nest. “Want to with you. Right here.”
And as Jacob followed him down, his pulse sped up. Maybe some wishes really did come true. And fuck, he hoped he had it in him to make this good for Linc, make him feel even a fraction of everything coursing through him right then. Don’t let me fuck this up.
Chapter Fifteen
Linc tugged Jacob back down, but he was still tense. Which, honestly, wasn’t at all the response Linc had been expecting.
“Can we please not do that thing?” he asked.
“What thing?” Jacob’s voice was too cautious to be entirely ignorant of what Linc meant.
Linc couldn’t hold back a groan. “That. That thing where you ask me if I’m sure a dozen times and tell me that I don’t have to. How about you believe me when I say yes, I’m sure. And yes, I’m well aware that I don’t have to. But I want to. Don’t make this more than it is. I want to get fucked. That’s all.”
“Okay.” Jacob wasn’t any less tense, but he at least didn’t ask again.
“Rumor says you’re good at this, so maybe try relaxing?” Linc teased.
“You’ve listened to rumors about me?” Jacob sounded vaguely pleased as he finally stretched all the way out next to Linc, feet tangling as they lay on their sides.
“Only the ones you’ve bragged about nonstop,” Linc lied, not wanting to admit how closely he’d paid attention over the years—or how deeply he’d felt the weird mix of curiosity and jealousy over Jacob’s hookups. “Now, can we get back to where we were? We’ve got cake for after, and you trying to talk me out of the fun parts wasn’t part of the plans.”