Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
How the hell did one guy chat up another?
If he could concentrate on something other than the man’s ass, he might have the answer figured out by now. That ass was a distracting, meaty handful that would tempt a saint to sinning. Matthew was no saint, so he’d spent most of his free time imagining all the things he wanted to do to it, and the rest researching those gay porn sites to see if certain positions were even possible.
For the record, they were. Along with a few others he never would have suspected, but now wanted to try.
“Have we lost you?” Rory asked, interrupting Matthew’s wayward thoughts.
“No.” Matthew straightened his shoulders. “Sorry I was just thinking about—” What the hell were they talking about? College funds?
“Don’t strain yourself, Shamrock Jr.” Rory patted his shoulder with a grin. “If you lost the plot, we’re discussing Legs McGee’s transportation at the moment.”
“His what?”
“The beast,” Robert replied, his envy clear. “I saw it one night while I was locking up. One of those wild, cholo-style lowrider beauties I used to want back when I first got my license.”
A car. They were talking about a car.
“Bright blue and loud, with all the bells and whistles. Even has a set of fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror. That’s a lot of machine for a guy like that, and he looked about as out of place as a little old lady behind the steering wheel.” Robert lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Bronte says a boyfriend is the only logical explanation.”
Perish the thought. “Would you come here every night, working out until you dropped if you had a full social calendar? Maybe he’s into big gas guzzlers.”
“I don’t know.” Rory leaned back precariously on his stool to study Legs in more detail. “That one has public transportation written all over him. For environmental reasons, of course. That makes the boyfriend borrow more believable. But then, I could be wrong, since he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d spend his nights here, either.”
“What kind of guy does he look like?”
“Sweet comes to mind, even though he has moves like a stripper.” Rory’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back at Matthew. “A sweet stripper, with a touch of vampire ponce-itude about him.”
The idea of other people, even his deeply satisfied cousin, noticing the sensuality of Legs’ movements annoyed him. “So is he an old lady or a sweet vampire stripper? Never mind. Do me a favor and never describe me to anyone. Either of you.”
“You asked.” Rory shared a look with Robert. “You heard him ask. But let’s forget about that for now. What’s your take, Matthew? What do you think his story is?”
Matthew took a long look at Legs. Sweet was on the money—those soft sable curls and wide, deep-set brown eyes made him look like an angel. An angel with lips that Matthew wanted to explore for days. He could practically feel them around his cock.
“I don’t know what I think,” he deflected, shifting uncomfortably on the stool.
Rory’s knowing look said he’d noticed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Well, I’m sure he’s not a vampire.”
You could solve all your problems if you’d just nut up and talk to the guy yourself.
Matthew had almost done it a half a dozen times, but something always held him back. He felt stuck. Unable to move forward, but unable to leave and risk the possibility of someone else swooping in to steal Legs away from him before he worked up his nerve.
The situation was getting untenable. His social life had all but disappeared. He’d turned down party invitations, ignored his email and phone messages... What kind of masochistic idiot had two thumbs and would rather watch a man hold the plank position for an hour instead of experiencing the illicit entertainments available at the local kink club?
His kind, apparently.
He’d been a club regular as recently as last week—back when there were all manner of things that flipped his personal switch, instead of just one oblivious man.
Light bondage? He was in. Spanking and role-play? Sign him up. Anal? As long as he was driving, it was, as they said, all good. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice by any means, but it was always good fun, usually educational and his family might be well known there, but they didn’t actually own the club, which was a rare plus.
There’d been plenty of opportunities to experiment with the men there as well, but he’d never been tempted—although, if he was being candid, certain male movie stars had accidentally slipped into his spank bank once or twice. But it was rare and he’d always chalked his momentary arousal up to the taboo nature of it all.
When he’d started getting to know the American Finns, though, he’d begun to wonder if there was something more to it than that. It would be impossible not to, since a majority of his cousins were either bi, gay, poly or some creative combination thereof.