Starting From Somewhere (Starting From #4) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Starting from Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
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I hooked my forefinger and beckoned him forward. He obeyed quickly, moving as though he were in a trance. “Observing animals in the wild, eh?”

“Yeah. I mean, no,” he said in a raspy voice.

I pulled him between my legs, then smacked his ass. “Which is it?”

Cody released a needy groan. “Um…I don’t remember the question.”

I lifted his chin and stared into his eyes. “I don’t think you want to watch anymore. I think that’s why you’re here. You want firsthand experience, so you can file it away in your memory book for later down the road. I’m not talkin’ about a fuckin’ cake either. You want to skip right to the skinny-dippin’ and naughty bits, don’t you?”

He blinked wildly and swallowed hard. “Could you just…”

I traced his jawline, running the side of my hand along the column of his throat, then set my thumb over his bottom lip. “Could I what?”

“Kiss me.”

Fuck, yes.

I drew him close so our noses brushed, and my beard scraped his end-of-day stubble. I felt his warm breath as we stood toe-to-toe. Just like that night in the parking lot, something shifted inside me. I didn’t get it, but I wasn’t a fool. I’d learned to pay attention to the signs. And everything in me said this man was important.

Before my mind wandered to weird places, I licked the corner of his mouth and sealed my lips over his.

Cody moaned as he draped his arms over my shoulders, tilting his head to deepen the connection when I pushed my tongue inside, sliding and twisting with his in a carnal, urgent dance. It was as though our bodies knew to continue where we’d left off a couple of weeks ago. Dammit, I didn’t want to waste any more time.

I raked my fingers down his back and molded him to my chest, loving the feel of his smaller body and the sweet noises he made when I cupped his ass. I bit his lip and licked it better as I stood. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, so I lifted him slightly and pumped my hips, groaning at the feel of his impressive erection against mine. Damn, I wanted him. Cody obviously felt the same. He clutched a handful of my T-shirt and shamelessly writhed in a quest for maximum friction.

I broke for air, raining soft kisses on his cheek, jaw, and neck. “Slow down, baby.”

“Let me feel you. Please,” he begged, fumbling with his belt.

I grabbed his wrist and shook my head, then ran my fingers along the buttons of his shirt, slipping one between the fold of fabric to touch his bare skin.

“Let’s not get caught in the office with our pants around our ankles. Come home with me. We can go skinny-dipping in my pool and cross one of those to-dos off your list. What d’ya say?”

He gulped audibly and let out a nervous half laugh. “I should say no. I might be breaking a rule or something.”

I chuckled as I gestured toward the open window behind us. “We’re more likely to commit some form of public indecency here. I’m not sure if they’d arrest us or fine us, but Charlie would be pissed.”

Cody covered his mouth in dismay. “I can’t get arrested.”

I hugged him impulsively. “You won’t. Come on, Cody boy. Drive me home and swim naked in my pool.”

“You just need a ride, don’t you?” he huffed, his voice muffled in the crook of my neck.

“Nope. I need to see this sweet ass up close and personal.”

He growled hungrily, rubbing himself against me like a cat in heat. “Yes. Take me to your lair.”

I burst into a new round of laughter, then laced my fingers with his and tugged. “Let’s go, sexy.”

4

Cody

Bobby J’s West Hollywood home was a gorgeous mid-century modern bungalow with high ceilings and an open floor plan. I noted the light hardwood flooring, generous windows, and whimsical chandelier over the small dining table as I followed him into the great room. The space was sophisticated yet comfortable. And though I was no expert, it looked expensive.

“Do you live alone?” I asked, peering through the sliding glass door at the rectangular swimming pool.

The crystal-blue water glistened invitingly under the early evening sun. The yard was small but well-kept with tall, neatly trimmed hedges lining the perimeter and plenty of room for a barbecue, a dining set, and a couple of chaise lounges.

“Yep. Want something to eat before you nude up and jump in the pool?” Bobby J waggled his heavy brow mischievously as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out sandwich meats, cheese, and Dijon.

“No, thank you. I returned to my senses on the drive here.”

“Well, that’s no fun. Water, wine, or tequila?”

“Water, please.”

He slid a water bottle across the sleek marble island. “There you go. Take a seat and watch the master at work. I’m making sandwiches.”


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