Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I bet.” His gaze went from suspicious to heated, every dirty, delicious memory right there in his dark eyes. “What are you after, Sean?”
“A ride?” I made my tone all innocent.
Denver shook his head like he wasn’t buying my act but jerked a thumb at the truck. “Get in.”
Happily vindicated, I hopped into the passenger seat. Mercifully, Denver cranked the heat before silently turning out of Honey’s lot. I wasn’t sure what to say as my plan and bravado had only carried me so far. But when Denver turned away from downtown onto one of the country roads leading northeast out of Mount Hope, I had to speak up.
“You’re not heading toward Prospect Place.”
“Very smart, hometown boy.” For the first time since exiting Honey’s, Denver smiled. “Thought you wanted a ride.”
“I do.” My voice turned all husky. If he wanted to drive or, better yet, park, I wouldn’t object. “I’ve got time before the household wakes up.”
“Good to know.” His smile turned feral as he picked up speed on the lonely road, heading away from the gentle hills of Mount Hope into more mountainous terrain. He was a damn good driver, handling the truck with admirable skill on the curvy road. I’d never found watching someone drive or being the passenger to be particular turn-ons, but there was a first time for everything. Apparently, my body liked the relative freedom of sitting back and letting Denver navigate the back roads. I trusted Denver, a strange sensation, but the feeling went beyond the driving. A low thrum of arousal pulsed through my veins, gathering strength with every passing mile.
“I’ve never had a fling before.” I kept my tone conversational. Outside, the rising sun cast a golden glow over the forest at the edge of the road, contributing to my loose mood. Further, the lack of traffic made it seem like we were the only two awake in the world. “Might be fun.”
“I have.” Denver matched my tone before hardening his voice. “Not looking to be your first.”
I raised a finger but kept right on smiling. “But you were.”
“And you’re some sort of duckling?” Denver raised his bushy brows. He laughed, which softened the tease. “Imprinted on me after one blowjob?”
“Maybe.” I gave him a toothy grin he didn’t return. Sighing, I sobered. “No, seriously. I’m not looking to take advantage of you like that other guy you mentioned yesterday.” I did appreciate Denver being honest, and I felt bad for the guy, having been through the wringer with his chickenshit rock star. “I’m upfront about being inexperienced and looking to explore, but I’m not a user, and I’m not looking to break hearts.”
“Appreciated.” Denver pursed his lips as he turned onto an old logging road. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel even a flutter of nerves. For all his sarcasm, Denver gave off gentle giant vibes, no hint of malice. He wasn’t out to hurt me, and that he’d sought out a private spot gave me and my raging lust hope.
“Would a repeat really be that bad?” I asked as he parked out of view of the main road.
“Or that good.” His dire tone was at odds with his words.
“Or that good.” I waggled my eyebrows at him, which earned me a resigned chuckle from Denver.
“You’re the near-virgin after a long dry spell. Everything is gonna be good for you.”
Now it was my turn to sound glum. “And this is where you sing the benefits of hookups again.”
“I’m not wrong.” Denver held up his hands. “You should get the queer youth you never had. Go into Portland, check out the clubs, download a few apps, have some fun.”
“I’m not a hookup person.” Following an impulse I didn’t fully understand, I captured one of his hands. My chest went warm and tight when Denver didn’t pull away. “I know that much. I don’t have club-worthy game and my phone gets most of its use on weather, sports scores, and takeout. I’m not interested in learning the rules of swiping this way and that.”
“Hookups are a mixed bag for sure.” Denver squeezed my hand, swinging it lightly. “But so are casual flings.”
“I’m no expert, but most skills get better with practice and repetition, right? I would think that would be an argument in favor of repeats versus one-offs.”
Denver made a frustrated noise. “Are you always in a good mood?”
“Pretty much. I try.” I gave him my friendliest smile, fueled by how damn good his hand felt against mine, warm and big and secure.
“I can tell.” Denver shook his head. “Wear them down with niceness?”
“Is it working?”
“You tell me.” Holding my gaze, Denver leaned in. I sucked in a breath. For all we’d done earlier, we hadn’t kissed, an oversight I was suddenly desperate to remedy. Rather than wait for him to close the gap, I moved in first. He met my kiss easily, lips parting on a smile. His lips were as soft as his beard was bristly. My first first kiss in well over twenty years, my first time meeting a male mouth ever. No wonder my hands shook and my abs trembled. My kiss went clumsy, my mouth no longer taking directions from my brain, and my teeth grazed his lower lip in a distinctly non-sexy way.