Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
It took Matthew a full minute to realize he needed to respond. “I’ve got connections. My cousin is the police chief.”
He leaned in for another kiss.
“All the more reason.” Oliver pushed him away and raked shaking fingers through his hair. “I can’t leave Ruben’s car behind. It’s his baby. I’ll follow you.”
He didn’t want to let him go, but there was no other option if he wanted more. It took all of Matthew’s willpower, but he managed to step away from temptation and walk stiffly to his car.
“Please, don’t let him change his mind,” he whispered to himself, and any gods of finally-getting-laid who might be listening.
He drove home on automatic pilot, half his attention on the Impala’s headlights and the other trying to get his arousal under control.
He didn’t act like this. Like he’d been slipped a Mickey and had no control over his actions.
Oliver had kissed him to stop him from asking questions he didn’t want to answer. It didn’t take a genius to see through that move. Hell, Matthew had used that move, and he understood the reasons behind it better than most.
But once the kiss started, Oliver had been as lost in it as Matthew, and both of them wanted to take what they were feeling to its natural conclusion.
That was enough for now.
Now was all he’d agreed to.
It would be up to him to make Oliver want more than one night. His new mission was Operation Legs. One kiss and his fate had been officially sealed.
No part of Matthew was hesitating or questioning himself. And every minute he spent with Oliver made things clearer in his mind.
This was his guy. He knew it. Oliver was the right one.
Matthew grinned. Maybe he was more like his brother than he thought. William and Bronte had been the same. They’d fought against it, lived in different cities, but they couldn’t deny what they’d recognized in each other. William told Matthew he’d wanted to marry her the second he laid eyes on her in the emergency room. That he’d known she was the right one for him.
What was happening between him and Oliver wasn’t logical. It wasn’t even smart. The Garcia’s might accept him, but he was blood. Would they accept a boyfriend? Oliver was wary, too—rightfully so, since Matthew had basically failed their first date. Spilling his life story at a coffee shop and propositioning him after he’d spent a week staring at his ass was not exactly the actions of a safe bet.
He would make things right. Tomorrow.
He pulled into his driveway and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Calamity’s car was gone. After that, all thoughts about his future narrowed to the amount of time it would take him to turn off the car and get inside the front door with Oliver in tow.
Matthew needed to see the man in his bed.
He grabbed the small sealed bottle Rory had given him and slid it into the pocket of his jeans before climbing out of the car.
Oliver was at his side as he closed the door and hopping up in his arms, clinging with dancer’s legs as Matthew forced himself to take those last few steps that stood between them and naked.
They moaned against each other’s mouths, Matthew barely getting the key turned in the lock before he kicked the door shut and leaned back against it. “Lock it, Legs. My family is big on unexpected interruptions.”
“Mine too.” Oliver quickly reached around him for the deadbolt. “Please tell me your bedroom is close.”
By the time they got to the top of the stairs, Oliver was impatiently pulling off Matthew’s shirt and reaching for the top button of his jeans.
“Quiero joder,” Oliver moaned, rubbing against him.
Fuck, that was sexy.
“You want something, Legs?” he asked as they finally reached his bedroom. He was suddenly thankful he’d splurged on the bed, since the one he’d been making do with was too small for the athletics he had in mind.
He lowered Oliver onto the king-sized mattress, one knee bent to follow him down. “Tell me what you want.”
“To fuck,” Oliver said through swollen, bow-shaped lips, his eyes dark with need. “I want you naked. I want to ride you.”
Matthew closed his eyes and blew out a shaky breath. Jesus. “We have so many things in common. Did you notice?”
Straightening up, he slid off his shoes and stripped off his jeans with clumsy hands while Oliver showed off his flexibility, lifting his legs over his head to yank off his pants.
Talk about giving him ideas.
Matthew tossed the bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside table onto the mattress next to Oliver before climbing back up to hover over him.
“Look at you,” he breathed, taking in every flawless inch of golden skin. “I could stare at you for hours. I have.”