Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I like it. Atlas Orion suits you.” Zeb offered me a kind, almost sentimental smile. “And it’s kind of cool how much of the world you’ve seen.”
“I guess so.” I shrugged, taking a moment to eat more potatoes before continuing. “I mean, yes, I know it’s a privilege, but it’s also weird not having a hometown or a good answer to the ‘where are you from’ question.”
“Like I said last night, it’s not too late to acquire a home base of sorts.”
“And not too late for you to travel,” I countered. There were any number of places I’d like to show Zeb. Sunsets in Morocco, the stunning colors of Portugal, three-hour feasts in rural Italy, and the distinctive flavors of South Korea and Indonesia. Yeah, it would be fun to travel with Zeb.
Maybe…
“I have. Finally left the Northeast for a conference in Atlanta this year. Next year, I might make it to Seattle.”
“I guess that counts.” I tried to keep my voice light, not reveal any sadness. No way was a guy who saw Atlanta as far away going to enjoy gallivanting around the world with me, snatching weeks of leave here and there.
“Hey, maybe someday I’ll get a passport.” Zeb continued his jokey tone. “Toronto and Vancouver have major gaming conventions.”
“That would be fun for you.” I smiled, hoping I came off as encouraging. “The China town district in Vancouver has some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. And Toronto has this amazing little bakery I love.”
“Too bad I can’t take you along as my guide.” Zeb bumped my shoulder, expression soft and open. “I do like to eat.”
“I know.” I sighed. The urge to think beyond December was rapidly winning out over my legendary common sense. “Me too. Maybe if I had leave—”
Zeb cut me off with a finger on my lips. “No promises, okay? We both know what this is.”
Do we? But I didn’t ask. That way only led to heartbreak. But the gulf continued to widen between what this was supposed to be—a fun holiday fling complete with sex lessons—and what it was—a deeply emotional friendship that kept stealing my breath and logic both. And right that moment, I needed to kiss Zeb.
No hesitation, no second guessing. I simply moved the breakfast tray to the floor and rolled him underneath me in one smooth move. Zeb chuckled, but I silenced him with a toe-curling kiss, delving deep into his mouth, claiming his lips and tongue and very soul as mine. I kissed him and kissed him until a vague worry about his oxygen levels made me take a reluctant breather.
“What was that about?” Eyes glassy and lips damp and swollen, Zeb gave me a dazed grin.
“Taking advantage of living in the now.” I kissed him again as he hummed his agreement. Kept kissing him until he shifted, letting the sheet fall away, revealing the return of his morning erection. “God bless snow days.”
Zeb went all pink and buried his face in my neck, licking and sucking while his hands swept over my back. However, when he tried to wiggle a hand between us to reach for my cock, I pinned both of his hands to the mattress.
“Nuh-uh.” Voice stern, I peered down at him. “I said you first next time, a fact you conveniently forgot when we went for round two last night.”
He made a frustrated noise. “But I like touching you. And kissing.”
“I like it too, and right now, I like your hands right where I put them.”
Zeb wrinkled his nose. “You’re lucky I lo—like you in chief mode.”
I winked at him, careful to act like I wasn’t well-aware of what he’d been about to say. “I do like giving orders.”
“Aye, aye.” Zeb made a show of relaxing into the mattress, tension leaving his arms, hands splaying wide against the sheet. Straddling him, I took a moment to study him, not only to decide where to kiss first but also to memorize my favorite parts. I started by kissing his forehead, brushing his floppy, reddish curls aside. Then I used my tongue to outline the perfect shell of his ear and the freckled line of his neck muscles. His scruffy jaw was fuzzy against my lips, while the delicate skin below his Adam’s apple and collarbones was impossibly soft.
“You don’t let me do this nearly enough.” I scooted lower so I could examine his rosy nipples. I pressed a kiss in the center of his chest, right over his heart.
“I’m not nearly as worthy of admiration as your muscles.” Zeb squirmed under me.
“Better not let me hear you talk like that again.” I scoffed at his ridiculous argument before lightly raking my teeth over his right nipple. “You’re perfect, Zeb. Seriously.”
Zeb’s skin was warm from sleep, warmer still from my kisses and touches. He tasted faintly of soap, the result of a hasty second shower after the round two he’d promised. But he also tasted like sunshine on fresh snow, more potent than the champagne the night before, the sort of indescribable flavor I couldn’t get enough of.