Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
By the time Jordan arrived home, he felt like crawling into his bed and never leaving it.
Except when he unlocked his door, there was light in his living room.
And there was a tall, dark-haired man standing by the open window, smoking out of it.
Jordan’s heart jumped somewhere to his throat. He dropped his briefcase with a thud and shut the door with shaking hands. His whole body was taut as a bowstring, his nails digging deep crescents into his palms. “Didn’t I tell you not to smoke indoors?”
The man turned, the cigarette between his long fingers.
“I opened the window,” Damiano said, his gray eyes giving nothing away.
Smoking is bad for you, Jordan nearly said. He had to bite his tongue. Damiano wasn’t his to fret over. He was no one to him.
“Aren’t you afraid someone might shoot you while you stand there? You probably make a very easy target.”
Damiano took a long drag from his cigarette. He looked mouthwateringly attractive, his sharp, angular face so striking it made Jordan’s fingers itch to draw him or take a picture. Distantly, Jordan was exasperated with himself. Why this man? If he had to find a man attractive, why did it have to be this one? The worst possible choice?
“I bought the building opposite this one,” Damiano said. “It’s secure now.”
Jordan looked at the skyscraper visible in the window and nearly laughed. “Right. Of course you did.” Shaking his head, he loosened his tie and pulled it off. “Look, I’ve had a spectacularly shitty day. Just tell me why you’re here and go. I have a hot date with my pillow I really don’t want to miss.”
Damiano eyed him for a moment before stubbing his cigarette out on the windowsill. “You look terrible, caro.”
Something lodged in his throat. “Thanks.”
“You haven’t slept in days,” Damiano stated, walking toward him and stopping just a few inches away.
Jordan’s heart was attempting to escape from his chest, or at least it felt like it. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, so that he couldn’t reach out for this man greedily. He wanted to reach out and touch, trace his stubbled jawline, his neck, his everything. He wanted to taste his skin, hot and salty, smell his sweat.
“Don’t tell me you have people stalking me in my sleep and reporting to you how much sleep I get,” Jordan said with as much bite as he could manage. It wasn’t a lot. His body was instinctively leaning forward, needing, and it was maddeningly difficult not to just fall into this man and cling to him with all his strength.
“I don’t need to have you stalked for that,” Damiano said, his nostrils flaring as his eyes roamed all over Jordan’s face. “You do look terrible. Too pale. Sickly. Almost plain.”
“Oh, wow,” Jordan said with a laugh. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”
Damiano’s face did something strange: a tight, pinched look, his eyes all pissy and angry, before he stepped forward and shoved his face into Jordan’s neck.
The punched-out noise that left Jordan’s mouth didn’t even sound like him, his eyes closing and his hands gripping, roaming all over Damiano’s back greedily before burying in his thick, gorgeous hair. It was like the rest of the world simply faded into nothing, put on mute or something.
Teeth bit him on his neck so hard Jordan cried out from the familiar, exquisite pain-pleasure. “Easy there, asshole,” he gasped out, clutching him close, clinging to his firm, sturdy body, trying to tug him tighter, closer. The fabric separating their skin pissed him off, so he yanked at Damiano’s shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Finally, the stupid thing was off and there was so much skin he could touch: warm, glorious skin covering the familiar, smooth muscles.
Damiano ignored his words, sucking nasty hickeys all over his neck, his confident hands making quick work of the buttons of Jordan’s shirt. Jordan was shaking, whines leaving his mouth—such an embarrassing sound, but he couldn’t seem to stop, needing him so fucking badly. He wanted to be naked with him. He wanted to be fused to him, like conjoined twins.
They stumbled into Jordan’s bed half-naked already, and Jordan moaned in delight as Damiano pressed him into it with his body, his weight so familiar, comforting, and achingly good. It felt so right: the weight, the pressure, the smell, the man. He missed this so badly.
His cock was hard, Jordan realized distantly. In any other circumstances, with a different man, it would have surprised him. But of course his cock was hard now. He craved this man with every cell of his body. Of course it would manifest as a physical want, too. It didn’t even feel all that strange to him. If there was a man who could make him want, it was this one. The mere thought of being naked with Damiano and feeling all of his skin against his own made him shiver, his nipples tingling. He wanted it. He wanted him so badly. He wanted to eat Damiano alive, swallow him whole, consume him in ways that weren’t even possible.