Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“I would hope so. If you don’t, you can’t stay.” Roach eyed Zane. Was he taking the joke too far? Should he be more obliging? Was the guy actually interested, not just being nice to get a place to stay? But then again, Zane could have had any of the girls if he wanted to. Surely, some of the men too, yet he was here. With him.
Roach’s entire body was engulfed by flames by the time he opened the door to one of the private rooms they used to crash or fuck hangarounds. It was basic, with a secondhand bed covered by a sheet and a brown blanket that had seen better days as the centerpiece. There was nothing else. Nothing. Maybe some condoms and lube in that metal cookie tin on the bedside table, but how was he to know? He hadn’t had sex here since he’d given up on trying to find pleasure in the wrong arms.
But tonight was different. Tonight, his erection wouldn’t fade all the way, no matter how hard he tried to will it down. His heartbeat thumped in his ears as he let Zane in and, after a moment’s consideration, locked the door.
His guest didn’t flinch, didn’t cast him a worried glance, as if he knew what this was and had come here willingly. It was impressive that he wasn’t afraid of Roach, that he didn’t think he might get hurt. Maybe he was just plain stupid, but Zane seemed like the kind of guy who always landed on his feet.
Roach pulled the flask out of his cut and held it out to Zane. Even if he couldn’t tell if Zane was gay or not, he could sense that something was very different about the way they talked to each other. Roach always had his guard up around other men, ready to fight off attacks or to take the first bite.
Zane was like from another planet. He was…nice. Generous with his time. Talented. So beautiful no one in this small town really deserved his attention. But he gave it to Roach nevertheless, and even if nothing came out of this, nothing sexual at least, the pleasure of his presence would be enough. A few hours away from his club buddies and family.
Zane placed his guitar by the wall and accepted the flask, taking a sip after sniffing its contents. His mouth twisted as he swallowed, only to widen in a toothy smile. “That really is good stuff. I must have made an impression.”
“You got a great voice. You’re gonna go far. You’re not from around here, though.” Roach put down Zane’s backpack, happy with the dimness inside the room, but he still pulled his hoodie a little lower to make sure his hard-on wasn’t obvious.
Zane’s cheekbones had a roundness to them when he smiled. “If I went far, I’d have to start living by other people's rules. And I want to be free,” he said, handing the flask back to Roach, who took an eager gulp.
Roach could share that sentiment. Not that he’d ever be free. “So this is the room. We can go back to the party, and lock your stuff in here.” He allowed himself an unspoken question, though he didn’t know himself what it was. Wanna fuck?
Zane must have caught it too, because he moved to face Roach. “Or?”
What was the worst that could happen? Artsy types were less homophobic anyway, so if Zane was actually inquiring whether Roach was suggesting they shared a line of coke, when all Roach wanted was a taste of him, they could laugh it off. Roach would have to threaten Zane, of course, but they’d go their separate ways after that. The risk was minimal, and if Roach didn’t at least try, he’d never forgive himself.
He was about to pull on Zane’s hand and lead it to his aching dick when that fae, that sex demon, that tempting, beautiful man took a step closer and traced Roach’s lips with his thumb, his smile thoughtful. “Don’t be nervous.”
Roach locked his eyes with Zane’s. “I give good head,” he blurted out like the idiot he was. But it didn’t matter. He’d said it. “I mean… I wanna give you head.” His whole body throbbed with heat and he dared put his hand on Zane’s hip.
Zane’s eyes darkened, as if night had come all at once, without prelude. He showed his teeth, and when he inhaled through them, it produced the sexiest hiss. A split second later, Zane’s hand, calloused from touching guitar strings every day, slid up Roach’s neck like a snake, straight into his short, messy hair.
Zane wouldn’t look away, his gaze shining, and the sound of the zipper opening sent a hot, delicious shudder up Roach’s spine, all the way to where Zane tightened his hold on his mane. “Well… in that case I might have to taste my cum on your lips once you’re done.”