Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Though, I risk nearing him. Only a couple feet away.
“What does most of the time mean for you?” he asks bluntly. “I once was with someone who didn’t like any kind of penetration.”
“That’s definitely not me.” I lick my lips, and his gaze falls to my mouth. “I like pretty much everything, but I’ve only bottomed twice.”
His brown eyes flit up to mine, and he chews his gum slowly in thought. “You didn’t like it?”
“Not with them. It’s a trust thing,” I say, just as the elevator dings and slides to a halt.
I don’t mention how I have fantasized about Farrow behind me—his weight bearing against me, but seven out of ten times in the fantasy, I flip him around and top him.
The three other times…his erection is in me.
18
FARROW KEENE
A ringing cellphone wakes me from a half-sleep. I roll onto my side and prop my body on my arm. If this is Alpha ordering me around via cellphone now, we’re going to need to have a real chat.
I grab my phone that dropped to the old floorboards and first notice the time on the screen.
2:03 a.m.
Then the caller ID: Wolf Scout
I instantly sit up, my black comforter already kicked to the edge of the mattress. On this unusually hot October night, I almost considered sleeping naked. But middle-of-the-night security emergencies basically tell me, don’t. Unless I want to be the guy who trips over himself while putting on underwear.
And that’s just not me.
I put the phone to my ear. “Maximoff.”
His long pause spikes my pulse, and just before I ask what’s wrong, his deep voice fills the line. “Come over.”
Damn. My cock strains against my black boxer-briefs, and more heat gathers in my attic bedroom. I wonder if he intended for come over to sound that blistering and erotic.
I wait to jump at his command. For one reason only. “Don’t you have a girl in your bed?” I found out fast that the nights where Jane and Maximoff are alone in the townhouse—no friends-with-benefits, no one-night stands—they somehow end up asleep in the same room. Same bed.
Platonically.
It’s a little strange. A lot strange when I really sit and think about it, but I also understand how open and uninhibited these families tend to be. And how Maximoff and Jane’s shared experiences from birth bond them together like fraternal twins. Much closer than just being cousins.
I’ve never dated a twin, and I honestly question how I’m supposed to fit into their dynamic.
Before he replies, I ask, “Have you told her about us?”
“Not yet.” He plans to let her in on the secret.
I already agreed to that stipulation. See, Jane Cobalt comes first in his life, and it’ll take a lot more than a five-minute ass-grab and lip-lock in his Audi to change that.
“She’s asleep,” Maximoff says, voice hushed. “I left her room. I’m in mine now. Alone.” His hot impatience strokes the long length of my erection.
Aroused knot in my throat, I stand, bare feet on the floor. I use my shoulder to free my hands and push my phone to my ear. Just so I can wrap my wire around my radio and collect my holstered gun. I’m about to say I’ll be over, but I want his voice in my ear.
“Is this your first booty call?” I ask.
“Is this your first time being propositioned by a celebrity?” he effortlessly flings back.
I smile. He’s such a little smartass. “I think you mean Harvard Dropout.”
“No, I mean celebrity.” He could easily add: internationally famous, overwhelming adored and revered, but he just stops at celebrity.
I joke about Maximoff dropping out of Harvard, but I know the true reason he quit. It wasn’t because he couldn’t hack it. He needed three bodyguards during his first and only semester. Students bombarded him. Snapchatting. Instagraming. Taking selfies before, during, and after the lecture. The disruption his presence caused wasn’t just pissing off his professors, he felt like he was ruining the education of his peers.
So he quit.
And he could’ve finished out his degree with online courses like Jane, but instead he threw himself into his career. It’s all public knowledge.
I pull on my black cotton pants, and with my gun and radio in one hand, I’m out of my room faster than Maximoff probably thinks. Descending the narrow flight of stairs. Quietly passing the second floor where Quinn is passed-out asleep.
I reach my living room, and I open my mouth to speak. But he fills the line first.
“Try not to come before you get here,” Maximoff says and then hangs up.
Damn.
I slip my phone in my pocket, my neck pricked hot. I subconsciously palm my dick, up and down twice. I want him.
Shit, I want him badly.
By my fireplace, I open our adjoining door.
“Walrus, you little bastard,” I whisper and snatch the scampering kitten. Gently, I kick the door shut and then release Walrus in Maximoff’s dark living room. No lights on.