Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“Step out of your slippers,” I told him, “and go over to the ring. I’ll help you into it.”
Gidget jumped into the ring easily with the equipment in his hands and rose to his feet. I helped Gabriel into the ring and then leaned on one of the ropes, watching as one of the grumpiest assholes in this club softened for my boy so he could learn how to take care of himself.
And damn, it felt good to watch Gabriel loosen up and even smile at Gidget as they sparred. He was sweating, and I knew he would be exhausted later. But I also knew that he was going to feel good both physically and mentally after his sparring session with Gidget.
Because not only was he exercising and improving his body, but he’d mentally pushed himself and overcome his fear of Gidget.
I was so fucking proud of him.
8
Gabriel
Ileaned back against the bathroom wall, my cock in my hand, desperately trying to remain quiet. I’d been achingly hard all morning, and thankfully, my briefs had been tight enough to keep Tango or Gidget from noticing. But fuck, Tango had eventually gotten into the ring with us to help adjust my form, his shirt off, and it had been torture.
Seeing all those muscles move beneath his skin… the way he moved and ducked Gidget’s swings as they demonstrated what they wanted me to do. It had been hot as fuck, especially when sweat had rolled down his back and chest and all over those tattoos. My tongue had literally tingled with the urge to lick that sweat off his glistening skin.
My balls drew up tight, and I fisted the tip of my cock in preparation—
The bathroom door swung open.
Tango and I stared at each other. Shock passed over his features as he ran his eyes over me. Mortification and embarrassment colored my cheeks. My chest tightened, anxiety and fear sweeping through me so fast, it made me dizzy. My throat closed up, words unable to escape. My heart slammed against my breastbone with every painful beat, threatening to crack through the bone and rip through my flesh.
“Fuck—shit—I’m sorry,” Tango blurted before he stepped back out, slamming the door behind him. Some logical part of my brain was telling me that slamming the door was unintentional, but I flinched all the same, tears filling my eyes as I choked on my next breath.
I’d just fucked up everything. Everything. Was he going to send me away now? Decide we needed to sleep in separate rooms because he didn’t want to share a room with someone who was just going to jack off in the middle of the day in a bathroom he may need to use?
I quickly yanked my sweats back up and shoved open the door to the closet, which was attached to the bathroom. I slammed it shut behind me, trying not to spew my breakfast everywhere. With shaky hands, I managed to flip the closet lock, and then I spun around, rushing to the other door to lock it as well so no one could get to me. I didn’t even want Tango at that moment, too terrified to see the disgust that I knew would be on his face.
He hated me now. I just knew it.
Slumping down the wall, I dropped my face to my hands, tears rushing down my cheeks. My chest was too tight. Everything hurt. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. Every breath was a wheeze, my lungs crying in pain as I tried to force myself to properly inhale. Was my heart slamming through my throat now? Was it going to choke me?
“Baby, open the door,” Tango called, slapping his palm on the closet door right next to my head. I flinched, a muffled cry ripping from my battered lungs. “Gabriel, baby boy, just open the door. You’re not in trouble. I promise.”
I sobbed and curled into a ball. If I didn’t open the door, he couldn’t get rid of me, right? He couldn’t force us to sleep apart. He couldn’t pawn me off on someone else to take care of.
I couldn’t lose him.
“Baby, just open the door. You did nothing wrong, sweet boy.” Tango’s voice was lowered, speaking softly to me. But I heard the tremor in it, the thready control he had over his anger. He had every right to be angry. I’d been jacking off in his bathroom. In the middle of the day when I knew I had to go eat lunch at any minute. I hadn’t even had the decency to get in the shower first.
My chest was too tight, but somehow, vomit managed to climb up my esophagus. I heaved and managed to shakily get to my hands and knees before throwing up. I sobbed, snot running down my face, my blunt nails biting into the hardwood flooring beneath me. I felt one of them break, and pain exploded through my finger as blood ran down my skin and dripped onto the hardwood flooring beneath my palm.