Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“How could you know that you’re the reason this monster was going to enter our world?”
“It’s hard to explain…but the better you get at this, the more you can feel the Rift, become in sync with it. You can feel when what you’re doing is working with it, honoring its power, and when you’re overstepping. It’s the same as your conscience when you do something right or wrong. You fucking know in your soul. I knew we weren’t ready to go in, but I pushed anyway because I was more concerned with being with my mom who’d been taken from me. I didn’t give a fuck about the consequences. And now a man’s dead. And others may die because of what we’ve done.” He turns away from me. “Don’t you see? I’m a monster. Fucking around with this stuff is why this thing got out, and now we’re paying the price of my sin.”
There it is.
This was why he didn’t want to share his reason for playing with this stuff. Because he feels guilty about what’s gotten out.
“When I left my dad at eighteen, I’d finally started to believe he was wrong about me. Even came to the same school as him with my inheritance from my grandfather to prove him wrong, to show him I could be somebody. But now I’ve just proven that every time he looked at me with scorn and disdain, every time I could see him hating me for reasons I didn’t understand, maybe it was because he could see me for what I really am.”
It’s a chilling confession. “Brad—”
Another tear breaks away from his eye, streaming down a familiar path.
He pushes to his feet. “I should go,” he says, but I grip his hand. “Please, just let me leave, Luke. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
I rise from the bed, keeping my hand tight against his and resting my other on his shoulder. “Brad, please don’t go. Please don’t shut down.”
He refuses to look at me. This is less like the guy I’ve come to know and more like a child trying to avoid his asshole dad’s cruel gaze.
“Please look at me, Brad,” I whisper because I want him to see how I’m really looking at him, without the judgment he fears.
He gulps and takes a breath before his gaze meets mine.
“I don’t know if what you did is the reason for all this, but knowing how painful it is to lose someone you love, if I thought there was a chance to keep my mom or dad around for a minute longer, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe it’s wrong. But fuck, we’re only human. Your dad wasn’t right about you. And I can see how fucking wrong he is when I look at you.”
His expression relaxes, and I feel his tension easing as he feels my support.
I move close, until I can feel his breath against my lips. I don’t just want him to see and hear my words, I want him to feel them in his fucking soul.
As I kiss him softly, there’s a vibration in my lips. His tongue slips into my mouth, and he hooks his arm around me, tugging me close as he takes out all his pain on our kiss.
I draw him back onto the bed, our lips parting only long enough so we can get positioned, him lying on top of me, his arms hooked around my neck. His warm tears slip onto my face as we thrust our hard cocks into each other.
I just want to relieve all the tension from that conversation, not just for myself, but for him. I want to help him escape, the way he helped me on the dance floor.
When his lips finally pull away from mine, he kisses down a familiar path to my throat, his tongue and teeth worshipping my flesh.
A powerful desire moves through me. It’s not as painful as it usually is. It feels…inevitable.
“Yes,” he whispers into my neck. “Yes, I’ll fuck you, Luke.”
I roll my head back as his assurance has my nerves on edge, eagerly anticipating this desire that’s plagued me since the seed was first planted weeks ago…since it became not just a fantasy, but an obsession.
His lips travel down my throat, to my chest. He explores my body with his mouth, tongue, and teeth as he makes his way down to my shorts, pulling them back to expose my stiff cock.
He rubs his face against it, teasing the head with his tongue before growling. He pries himself back, rising onto his knees. “These shorts are hot, but right now, they’re pissing me off.” Like the expert fuckboy he is, he tends to my shoes and socks first, tossing them off the bed before grabbing either side of my shorts and pulling them down my legs. Only then do I notice he’s already kicked off his shoes—when the fuck did that happen?