Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“If I thought I had a real shot in hell with him, I’d give him the rest of my life.”
###
Rowe swore under his breath and slammed the linen closet door shut. Out of fucking towels. Again. He sucked at housework. Sadly, he knew that he couldn’t blame Mel’s death on how things fell behind. She was never any better than him, and they’d had more than their fair share of arguments over the laundry, dishes, and…ugh, he shuddered to even think about it…the grocery shopping.
Unfortunately, he didn’t notice that he was out of towels until he was already done with the shower—a shower that he’d spent the entire time trying to ignore his hard-on and the fact that Noah was just on the other side of the wall, naked in the guest bathroom shower. They’d struggled through some awkward small talk before Noah escaped for a shower before dinner.
When he wasn’t imagining Noah standing under the hot spray, water rushing down the sleek muscled hills of his stomach, he was remembering last night and how much he’d loved the feel of Noah’s dick in his mouth. It had been so warm and smooth and he’d loved the way it pulsed against his tongue.
He groaned and hit the tile with the side of his fist.
That memory didn’t help at all.
He needed to get a handle on this shit. But first, he needed a goddamn towel.
Clenching his teeth as he stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, Rowe quickly walked through his bathroom, cursing himself again for tossing the dry towel Noah had used into the laundry room that morning as if removing it would remove the memory of last night. The cold air chilled the drops of water racing down his body and dripping down his face from his hair. He paused at the bedroom door and pulled it open only a crack to peer down the hall.
The house was silent. No sign of Noah. No sign of the drooling trio either. Usually lined up outside the door, they kept their distance from the bathroom out of fear of a bath, but stayed close in the event of surprise food. Rowe took a second to roll his eyes at himself. He was sneaking naked and wet through his own home. It certainly wasn’t like Noah had never seen him naked, but now just seemed like a bad time.
Steam still filled the guest bathroom and he smiled at the faint scent of peppermint. Before he could think about what he was doing, he plucked the white bottle off the shower shelf and brought it to his nose. His dick started filling with just one whiff.
This was getting out of hand.
He put the bottle back and snagged the last clean towel from under the sink before stomping back to his bathroom. He quickly finished drying off, brushed his hair, and slapped on some deodorant. Tightening the towel around his waist, Rowe frowned and forced himself to face his reflection in the partially fogged mirror. He was disappointed. Some small part of him had hoped for Noah to catch him hurrying naked through the house, to pin him against the wall and run his calloused hands over Rowe’s wet skin.
“You’re an idiot,” Rowe muttered to his reflection. He was a mess and Noah was better off finding someone whose life wasn’t a natural disaster.
Jerking open the bathroom door, Rowe stepped out, telling himself that he’d put on some clothes and pull his head out of his ass so that he could get their friendship back to familiar ground. The lamp beside his bed clicked on and Noah grinned at him from where he was stretched out on his bed. He wore black sweats and a plain white T-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He’d pushed it behind his ears. Fuck, he was gorgeous. His hair probably smelled of that damned peppermint. All his plans flew the fuck out the window.
Noah cleared his throat and sat up. “I took the dogs out. They’re currently crashed out in their beds in the living room.” Blue eyes flicked down over his chest and stomach and his lids lowered when he reached Rowe’s waist.
Rowe swallowed a curse as his dick jerked from where it was attempting to poke out from the towel. Heat crept up his neck, but he did nothing to try and hide it. What would be the point? It wasn’t going anywhere until he did something about it.
“You acted like an ass today.”
“I know,” he answered quietly. “I don’t know what to think about all this.” He leaned against the doorjamb, crossed his arms. “There’s so much going on and we need to figure out how to get to Jagger and—” he stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, Keegan, what the hell are we doing?”