Fairy Cakes in Winter Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
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What was I thinking, and when had I become the king of bad ideas and public sex acts? It was definitely a recent development and not something I should pursue. I told myself to stop, but he was hard. I could see the outline of his thick cock clear as day. I wondered if anyone would notice if I got on my knees and—

“Hey.”

“Sorry, I—”

“We’re here. C’mon, Theo.” Scott grabbed my wrist and kissed my knuckles before ushering me off the train.

Stunning pink clouds crested the hillside as we made our way from the station into town. I huddled close when a brisk wind howled along the riverside near the abbey, thinking it felt different to stroll these streets with Scott than it had with Giles the other day.

The colors were crisper and my senses more in tune with my surroundings: The sharp clip of our footsteps as we navigated uneven sidewalks and cobblestone streets. The blue awning of the tourist shop next to the Abbey Hotel selling royal memorabilia. Crying seagulls hovering over the Pulteney Bridge. The modern-looking Waitrose market juxtaposing the colorful painting outside Saracens Head, a pub which claimed to have been in business since 1713.

I was curious about all of it, but I had other things on my mind.

Scott unlocked the door next to his bakery, stopping to wave to a neighbor holding a cat the size of a raccoon before motioning me to follow. We traversed a long, narrow hallway and climbed three flights of creaky stairs.

When he unlocked a second door, I stepped in behind him, shamelessly checking out the white walls, tall ceilings, and wide-plank hardwood flooring. The flat was sparsely furnished with a saggy dark sofa covered with a green tartan throw blanket that clashed with the red-and-blue faux-Persian rug, a small flat-screen propped on a dresser, and a floor lamp that was probably all the rage in the nineties.

He tossed his keys onto the round table next to the galley-style kitchen and shrugged off his coat.

Not everyone could make stripping off bulky winter wear look sexy, but there was something so primal about the way Scott moved. He flipped on the light switch, draped his jacket over a chair, then unbuttoned his plaid shirt as he stalked toward me like a lion sizing up his next meal.

Gulp.

And now, he was mere inches away, talking about—

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I asked, dragging my teeth over my bottom lip.

Scott smiled faintly and brushed his thumb along my jaw. “I think we’re on the same page, but I need to hear you say it. Tell me what you want, Theo.”

“I…want to see you, touch you,” I stammered.

“Here I am.” He spread his arms wide in invitation. “Touch me.”

I have no idea how long I stood there with my mouth open, but it was probably semi embarrassing. I couldn’t help it. He was a manly hunk of muscle with the lightest layer of frosting over his abs. I liked that. He was solid and real, and the way he looked at me did something to my insides.

I splayed my hand under his shirt, covering his heart as I met his gaze. Blood pounded in my ears and reverberated in my brain. I could hardly hear myself think. I skated a single digit along the middle of his chest, stalling for a beat before cupping his denim-clad cock.

“Like that?”

“Fuck,” he growled, crashing his mouth over mine.

Scott unzipped my coat and unbuttoned my shirt, slipping his fingers under the fabric. He tweaked my nipples, eliciting a needy moan.

And because I was a slightly deranged sex-starved maniac, I launched myself at him, sticking my tongue down his throat as I backed him against the nearest wall. Scott responded with gusto.

This wasn’t a sweet, exploratory kiss; it was ruthless and hungry. Like a fight to see who could devour the other first. His hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my hips. I hooked my thumbs in his belt loops and pressed myself close, humping his thigh like a ho. I loved that he was taller, bigger, and stronger than me, but I would have given anything to be chest to chest. Or better yet, dick to dick.

Scott got the message. He bent his knees till he was closer to my height and grabbed my cheeks. I groaned into his mouth when he bucked his hips, loving the delicious friction. I clutched a handful of his shirt and rubbed up on him. It was so satisfying…until it wasn’t. I needed to feel his skin on mine. Now.

I inched away slightly and finished unbuttoning his shirt while Scott undid his jeans, pushing the denim over his ass.

He caught my wrists when I snapped at the elastic on his boxer briefs.

“Don’t you want—”

“Oh, yes, I want.” He set my hand over his erection and pumped his hips suggestively. “I want you so bad it hurts. We gotta slow down, or this will be over before it begins.”


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