Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Sean leaned down on his elbow and pointed his Canon upward, wanting a shot of the vine leaves from below. Slowly, he twisted the lens, zooming in just a little, then adjusted the focus to extend a longer distance. There, the visual composition he was after. A sphere high in the sky, lancing light through the canopy, its rays reaching down to kiss Sean’s cluster.
He smiled and took the shot, then sat back up, wishing his life could be so beautifully simple. Funny thing was, it used to be. Right up until a couple months ago.
Max’s face reemerged to the forefront of his mind—reemerged, because it never truly left. Sean’s heart thump-bumped. Just a vision of Max made it happy. The guy didn’t even have to be present. Sean shook his head and smiled again, thinking back to last night at the club. When his and Max’s drunk asses had hung out. Flirting and being snarky, dancing and having fun. Touching, smiling, enjoying each other’s company. Interacting like they’d never done before. He wanted to interact like that again.
A warm little shiver shimmied through his chest. He rubbed his cheek absently against his shoulder, imagining Max always like that. Laid back, relaxed, his green eyes gleaming. Those stubborn lips curved up instead of down.
Sean sighed at the sobering reality of that. Of how Max frowned so much more than he smiled. It made Sean sad. Made him want to try to help. He thought back to how he’d tried to help last night in that cab. Not the most creative of ideas, but hey, he was drunk, and time was ticking. He was pretty sure that Max enjoyed it, though.
God, his fingers in Sean’s hair…
Sean’s heart beat faster, remembering the moment. Max gripping him, moaning, clenching his jaw, his body responding heatedly to Sean’s mouth. To the pleasure he was giving Max, with his lips and tongue. Making Max tense and twitch with each suck. And fuck, Max’s hips, with their erratic little thrusts, wordlessly letting Sean know that Max was close. Close to spilling his load down Sean’s throat, which he did on a curse just seconds later.
Sean’s dick firmed just thinking about it, about Max’s cum in his mouth. Best load he’d ever friggin’ tasted. Not that a ton of guys had come in his mouth, because they hadn’t. Enough though, so that Sean could compare. And maybe it was a mental thing, who fucking knew, but to Sean, Max’s cum was ambrosia. Ambrosia from a sex god’s pulsing cock. An incredible experience Sean would never forget. And hopefully one he’d experience again.
But that was what Sean would want. What would make Sean happy.
In truth, as he thought back to Max’s post-o expression, he’d looked sated, but that was pretty much it. Sean hadn’t cheered him up. His attempt had failed. If anything, Max had actually looked worse. Sean frowned, remembering Max’s unsettling vibe. The expression on his face as he’d left. Like he was somehow reluctant. Disheartened, even. Which Sean highly doubted was because of that fight.
It reminded him of the looks Max sometimes gave during aftercare—times a hundred, though, in terms of intensity. His insides churned, unsettled. This was something he’d been trying not to think about. Something that’d stuck with him ever since Max said goodbye. Sean had vigilantly distracted himself, keeping his mind busy elsewhere, but it always kept resurfacing to haunt him.
Was his brain trying to tell himself something? Trying to get him to act?
Sean set his camera beside him and pulled out his cell phone, then proceeded to just stare at the thing. When it came to Max, there really wasn’t much Sean could do. Checking on him in person was definitely a no-go, so Sean would stick with his original plan and just text him. He pulled up Max’s contact and hit the message icon, but when the empty screen came up, his fingers stalled. What exactly was he supposed to say?
Sean thought for a moment, then grinned and started typing.
EMERGENCY! Text me back!
Sean frowned at his message. Yeah, right. Max would delete that in a heartbeat. He sighed and cleared the screen, then tried another approach. One he hoped would actually work.
Hey, Max. It’s Sean. Need to talk to you about Tuesday. Text me back. Or call. Either is fine.
Okay, so he didn’t really have anything to say about Tuesday, but he could totally make something up on the fly. All he needed was a couple of replies from the guy to glean if Max was truly okay. Insides anxious, Sean sent his text, not exactly hopeful.
“You better get back to me,” he grumbled, shoving away his phone.
God, he could really use a cigarette.
* * * * *
“Shit. Fucking empty.” Max glared at his leather cleaner, then turned and threw it irritably across the dungeon. It ricocheted off the spanking bench—as well as some other contraptions—