The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
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“Patience,” I whisper.

“It’s hard to be patient when you’re so good at that,” he rasps out.

Prides suffuses me, filling every cell in my body. I pull my gaze back for a second, our eyes locking. River looks as lost in lust as I am, eyes hazy, cheeks flushed, desire written all over him.

At last, I speak the words aloud to him that define my heart.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for years,” I say, and I don’t give him a chance to register the enormity of my confession. Since at last, my lips brush his, and everything—just everything—in the whole universe fades away.

Our lips meet and I know in my soul there has never been a first kiss like this.

This is why people kiss.

For this possibility.

This potent connection.

Our lips slide together, and I taste him. Enjoy him.

I intend to savor every single second of this kiss and this night. I want to live in it, without consequence. To roll around in this perfect kiss as his lips explore mine, as his hands roam over my ass, as he tugs me against him like he can’t get close enough either.

I want it all to last, because I am so deeply in love with River already, and I hope, I truly hope, he doesn’t break my heart.

But soon, I’m no longer thinking about my heart.

I’m only feeling.

We kiss for ages in the kitchen. Not stopping. I’m not even able to stop. Just lips and teeth and tongues and heat. I have no will to end this kiss. So I don’t even try. I take more and more, consuming my friend’s kisses, gobbling them up, loving them completely.

Then asking for more.

Asking with my lips, with my tongue, with my whole body.

I grind my pelvis against his, rubbing our hard-ons together, making him grunt and me groan.

Our lips keep crashing back and with every single kiss I’m feeling so many things at once—lust, heat, desire. And a wildly intense need to show him just how good I can be to him.

When I said those words in the car, I meant as a boyfriend. I meant I’d be good to a man outside of the bedroom.

But in my book, boyfriends should also be very good to each other when clothes come off.

That’s a privilege—to make someone else feel incredible in bed. That’s something I’m dying to do for him.

So when I break the kiss, I slide a hand down his chest on a fast track for his cock. I cover the ridge of his erection with my palm, then squeeze.

“Umm, you cocktease,” River moans.

I laugh lightly. “I’m only a tease if I don’t go through with it.”

He jerks me closer, lifts his chin. “And what do you want to go through with?”

I press a hot, quick kiss to his lips, then pull back. “I’d really like to get on my knees for you and suck your cock.”

River unbuttons his jeans, slides down the zipper, and takes me up on my offer.

13

RIVER

There are many varieties of blow jobs.

Some are quick and to the point. Those are like a straight shot up a roller coaster, then a fantastic ride downhill at top speed.

Others are dirty and deep. The kind where the head of your cock hits the back of his throat, and he takes you all the way.

There’s the long, slow tease. With lots of licks and kisses.

All are good, since there are pretty much no bad blow jobs.

But then there is this.

A brand-new variety I’m discovering tonight as Owen plays with my dick. As he swirls his tongue across the head. As he licks a long, decadent stripe down my shaft, then back up.

“Your mouth is so fucking perfect,” I moan as he wraps those sensual lips around my length, like he’s showing off how incomparably sexy his mouth is.

Clasping his face in one hand, I run my thumb across his top lip, breathing out hard as I gaze at the beautifully filthy sight in front of me. Owen stares up at me with wide, hungry eyes, running his hands over my thighs, playing with my abs, traveling his palms along my body. All while he seduces my cock with his gorgeous mouth and tongue and magic.

This is a whole other kind of blow job, and already, it’s my favorite. It’s worship, and it’s clear Owen believes. What’s clear too is how much I like attending the church of Owen’s blow jobs. I’m going to sing its praises as he draws me in more, moaning around my shaft. His sounds send shockwaves of pleasure across my skin. His murmurs make me shudder.

Because, seriously, this—it’s too much. It’s too hot. It’s just . . . everything. “Look at you. Your lips are so sexy wrapped around my dick,” I rasp out as his blue eyes sparkle with naughty delight.


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