Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
She finds my sis, and we say our goodbyes and hang up.
I glance out my bedroom window, at the luxurious estate it overlooks. Since arriving at Hawthorne Heights, I’ve felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, flipping and spinning, dizzy with confusion. It’s like I’m not in a real place but some sort of dream.
Or maybe this is a nightmare, and I just don’t realize it yet.
The following Monday, when I return to work, there’s a weight off my shoulders. Charity and Amy are in New York, already scheduled with a doctor for today. Fuck, I can’t even see my primary care physician that soon.
It gives me hope. Makes it easier to throw myself into work. I must admit, as intense and demanding as the job is, I enjoy manual labor. Keeps my mind and body busy.
Before Ryan and I left the woods last week, we agreed to meet up again tonight.
“We have to take it slow. Make it believable,” Ryan says. “If we start hanging together right after your agreement with Simon, he’ll know we’re up to something.”
It’s a struggle to understand Ryan and Simon’s relationship. They don’t seem to love each other, at least not like I love Charity. It’s almost like they’re locked in a chess match, incited by Simon, leaving Ryan struggling to read and dissect every move, trying to work out his twin’s strategy. That Ryan had considered how to go about this even more than me suggests he’s spent a lot of his life trying to anticipate the maneuvers of his calculating brother.
Tonight’s different than the first night we messed around. I can tell because as I walk to his room, I’m not on edge—I’m excited. And though Simon gave me a bottle of sildenafil, I don’t take one. I’m curious to see how I’ll do without.
I knock on the door, and Ryan opens it. Again, he’s not wearing a shirt, just pajama bottoms, the waistband tight over the ridges along his V-line.
He grabs me and guides me into his room, pushing me up against the wall. He closes his eyes before his lips slam against mine. For the past few days, he’s been even more professional than usual, so I was waiting for this to be as awkward as the first time. Yet now I’m frozen in place as his tongue slips between my lips, teasing mine.
The first time we met, we fucked without kissing, so this is a surprise—and it also assures me that Ryan’s perfectly capable of giving me a hard-on without any assistance.
After recovering from my initial shock, I kiss him back, and his hand grips my crotch, running up and down against the fabric of my jeans.
His kisses relax before he offers two gentle kisses in quick succession like he wants to pull away but my lips keep drawing him back in.
As he finally leans back, he opens his eyes, assessing my face carefully, studying it. It’s not like when Simon introduced us, when he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Or like during work initially, when he would cut a glare my way, maybe because he thought I was working with his brother against him. Or maybe because of something that went down between him and the guy he hasn’t told me anything about.
He moves closer, slowly, steadily, then closes his eyes and kisses me again. It’s like he’s testing himself.
And I’m happy to be a part of his little test.
But I wish Ryan had shared that with me, told me about this mystery man, so I could have some idea whose memory Simon is trying to bring back.
Ryan takes my hand, guides me to the bed, and pulls me on top of him.
We’re just going for this.
My hands are greedy for his body. There’s no talking. I pull at his pajama bottoms, guiding them down and then stomping them to the floor. I don’t let myself think too much. I allow myself to enjoy the experience as I kiss down his neck, his torso, then farther down. I’m curious now, and as I reach his cock, I hesitate for a moment before licking from the base to the head.
He moans, the sort of moan that makes me feel like I’m the first guy who’d ever licked it.
“I guess it’s been a while, as you said,” I tell him.
“Too fucking long.” He threads his fingers through my hair as I taste him some more, try to get a feel for this. I run my tongue up and down his shaft, then assess the head before sliding it into my mouth.
It’s strange to think I’ve never done this before—it feels like the most natural thing in the world, having his cock pushing my lips apart as I take it halfway, running my tongue along the bottom.
As I release it from my mouth, I notice some precum sliding out of the head and give it a lick. I’m surprised the taste is so good. And that I’m hungry for more.