Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I haven’t.”
Ansel glanced at the steering wheel where his fingers still clutched the leather and then back at him with a raised eyebrow as if to say, really?
Fitch huffed a laugh. “Okay, I’m nervous, but I’ve never let that stop me before.”
They didn’t speak again until Ansel guided Fitch to his street, not far from the club. As they were climbing the cement steps to the front door, Ansel looked at him over his shoulder.
“My landlord is a huge dick so try to be quiet until we’re up the stairs.”
Fitch nodded and followed Ansel through the front door of a dimly lit building. He spotted half a dozen code violations in the entryway alone. And Ansel had to work two jobs to afford the rent? Thank God Fitch didn’t live in the city. He’d rather pay for gas than live like a squatter. Though the building needed work, Ansel’s apartment wasn’t bad, in fact, it was kind of cozy. He walked a few steps into the living room while Ansel flipped the light switch and closed the door behind them.
“My roommate is working tonight so we’ll have the place to ourselves for a few hours.”
“You have a roommate?” Fitch turned to take in the layout and decor. The kitchen, dining, and living space were combined, but a hall led to what he guessed were the bed and bath. The whole place was an explosion of color and texture. It was vibrant and warm, just like Ansel.
“Yeah, Ange. She has odd hours because she’s working to be a nurse.”
Fitch raked his gaze over Ansel from the top of his blond head to the tips of his pointy heels. Now that they were alone, he didn’t know what to do next. Normally, he’d make the first move. He was big and had always been the more dominant partner. But that was straight sex. How should he handle gay sex?
Gay sex. Fuck. Was he really about to go through with it?
He took stock for the hundredth time since leaving his apartment to make sure this was really something he wanted to do, and found his interest hadn’t diminished during dinner. In fact, the small glimpses of vulnerability he’d seen in Ansel’s unguarded moments had embedded themselves in Fitch’s mind and refused to let him go. He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see Ansel open and free. Somehow, he knew the sight would be spectacular.
All his worry flew out the window when Ansel came forward and pushed him back against the island separating the kitchen from the living room.
“I think we discussed something about me getting on my knees?” Ansel expertly unfastened the fly of Fitch’s pants.
Breathlessly, with trembling hands Fitch replied, “I do remember someone boasting about his skill.”
“The best you’ll ever have, baby. I promise.” Ansel pressed their lips together and Fitch forgot all his reservations.
In that moment, he didn’t care about anyone or anything other than Ansel and the way Fitch felt when he was near him.
* * *
Ansel kicked off his shoes and watched Fitch’s face as he lowered to his knees. God, he enjoyed the flare of nostrils and the hunger in those deep brown eyes. He kept watching while he tugged down Fitch’s jeans and cupped his hard cock through the soft fabric of his briefs. Fitch sucked in air, but didn’t break eye contact.
There were nerves in that stuttered breath, in those hooded eyes, Ansel could see it and moved cautiously, scared to frighten the rabbit. But Fitch just kept looking, his cock stiffening impossibly under Ansel’s hand.
Ansel’s asshole clenched in anticipation. Did he even have any lube in the apartment? Hell, and condoms. He never brought guys to his place. It was always more convenient to go to theirs, that way he didn’t have to worry about kicking them out. None of that awkward morning-after shit, because he always left five minutes post climax. But no way was he going to trek his sorry ass all the way back to Manhattan from bum-fuck Bayonne, New Jersey. He didn’t even know if there was a subway line so far out in the middle of nowhere. He’d blown all his cash on the cab to the club earlier, and like hell he’d expect, or even ask, for a ride after he’d had the guy’s dick in his ass. So, here he was, on his knees for the very first time in his own kitchenette, wondering if he even had supplies to get what he really wanted.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before.” Fitch’s voice was so deep it sent shock waves through him.
Ansel shivered and closed his eyes. Goddamn, the man could turn him on with just the sound of his voice. Still rubbing Fitch’s erection through the fabric, he pressed his face into the bulge and inhaled sexy man musk and soap. He flattened his palms and extended his arms up so he could slide under Fitch’s shirt. Skin to skin, the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles reminded Ansel of an old brick wall, solid and unyielding. The only difference was the heat. Fitch’s skin was on fire. He wished he’d taken a moment to rid them both of their clothes because he wanted to see all that lovely simmering flesh tense and flex as he sucked down Fitch’s cock.