Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
And he does. His mouth covers mine and we kiss until I can’t fucking breathe without him. Until I wonder how in the hell I was happy in my life when kissing him wasn’t a thing I could do.
Grrrrr.
I pull away at the sound of his stomach growling.
“Oh my God.” Evan drops his head back, laughing again. His Adam’s apple vibrates, making his tag jingle.
“Obviously, we need to feed you.”
“I’m starving, but this is nice too.”
“We can pick this up after. I’ll make us some quick dinner.”
“Do you mind if I go wash the coffee off?”
“Nope, go for it.” He climbs off my lap, and I immediately miss the weight of him. Evan goes to his room, and I hear the shower kick on as I fry up a piece of ham from the fridge and make ham, cheese, and green pepper omelets.
There’s a loud screech from outside, so I walk over to the window to see what’s going on below. Whoever it was is already gone, so I lean against the window frame, looking at Midtown. My mind immediately goes to my pup, which is what he truly feels like he is to me now. Yes, he’s my boyfriend, my friend, but there’s such a strong desire inside me to claim him as something deeper. For him to truly be my pup. I don’t know why the bond there feels so much more concrete, but it does. Maybe because I know it’s such a large part of him and obviously of me too, and we’ve both discovered that together.
“Holy shit, you have no idea how hot you look right now. Jeans unbuttoned…I changed my mind. No food. I just want you.”
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. “Food first, fucking later.”
“Please.” He bats his eyelashes playfully.
Walking over, I press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m not falling for that, Pup. Let’s eat.”
We eat dinner at the small table, talking about our days. When we’re finished, and wash the dishes together, I ask, “What do you want to do tonight? Do you want to play?”
“I thought we were fucking.”
“I think you only like me for my cock.”
Evan grins mischievously. “Puppies do like bones…”
“Naughty, Pup,” I tease.
“I do want to play, but can we do it later? I want to sing. We haven’t sung in so long. Please, Frankie?” He grabs my wrist and starts to tug me toward the other room. “We sing, then we play. I think I want to play with some toys. Then lots of belly rubs and cuddles, then sex. I think that’s the perfect night.”
“So spoiled,” I tease even though it does sound like the perfect fucking night to me. “Let me go get my guitar.”
It only takes me a second to grab it from my bedroom closet. When I get back into the living room, Evan is on the couch, waiting.
“What do you want first?” I warm my fingers up by playing a few scales.
“Our song, ‘Him & I.’ ”
“You always pick that first.”
As my fingers dance up and down the strings, Evan sings. It’s shitty and pitchy, but I fucking love it. Love his strength, the confidence he shows here in doing something he enjoys so much no matter how bad he is.
We go through song after song, me on the guitar and Evan supplying vocals. It’s silly and fun. We laugh and screw up and, Christ, there is nothing like these moments with him.
When we’re done, Pup Runt comes out to play, wagging my favorite tail. We play catch, and I walk him on the leash before belly rubs and cuddles.
When Evan’s back, I strip him bare, as he does me. We moan together when I push inside him, a sweaty mess of limbs, heavy breaths, and come.
Just like he said—the perfect night.
29
Evan
I pass Derek his cappuccino, which he takes before tossing a dollar in the tip jar.
“For that Magnum you’re going to need tonight.” Derek winks, and I try to fight a laugh, but I can’t help myself when it comes to Derek and his teasing.
“Thank you,” I say before he heads to the bar at the end of the counter, where Gary is on his laptop. He’s wearing his glasses, which is unusual since usually he wears contacts when he’s out. I don’t even think I’d ever seen him in glasses until he and Travis got together, when he seemed to be more comfortable with being the Superass we all know him to be.
He pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose as Derek plants himself down on the stool beside him.
“I didn’t come here so you could look at porn all day,” Derek jokes.
“It’s an email I have to send for work. And considering that most of the time I’m on a laptop around you, it’s usually yours, and I’m usually cleaning up viruses you’ve picked up because apparently you look up some weird-ass porn.”