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Honestly, that had to be the only reason he didn’t register the glow of lights coming from underneath the closed door until he’d already turned the handle. ” His heart almost leaped out of his chest when he stepped inside his bedroom to find someone sprawled across his bed in what probably qualified as a seductive pose. He didn’t like surprises of any kind, and BT, short for boy toy number one hundred and—hell, he’d lost count of the willing men he’d bedded—had just shocked the hell out of him. He couldn’t have random BTs breaking into his home, surprising him at every turn, desecrating his perfect bed with confetti. ” he asked, leaning against the dresser, casually crossing his arms over his chest. Steffan twirled around and stalked into the guest bedroom, that long hair floating out around him. Arik closed his door and reached down to twist the lock when he heard something crashing against the guest room door. Even with taking the time to rid the bedspread of the confetti and change the pillowcases where that overly strong cologne lingered, he’d still, hopefully, get at least a couple hours’ sleep.
This one was way too pretty and so deliciously tempting that for a split second he almost gave in…almost. “I’ve been planning this since you left me last week. When he realized it might take two hands to deposit BT into the guest bedroom, he went for that door, pushed it open wide, and tossed the suitcase in his hand across the room. And if we came to some sort of arrangement, with all my extra free time, I could take care of you any way you saw fit.” “Not gonna happen.” BT’s words couldn’t have been better deterrent for giving in and indulging in a quick hook-up. Not that he had anything against the whole finding Mr. But the boy toy currently groping his ass was not anywhere close to his idea of relationship material. I stretched myself to be ready for you.” Arik looked back to see BT stomp his foot for good measure, his now flaccid dick swinging in the process. Arik chuckled at that one and quickly opened his door again. I won’t be happy if you make me late,” he yelled before closing and relocking the door. *Giveaway now over – congrats to Latifa Morrisette* Enter to win: a Amazon Gift Card (US ONLY) All you have to do is share this post and giveaway on your social media account(s) (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc).
His exhausted state gave a solid thumbs-up on the plan, and he easily drifted back to sleep. “No,” he said firmly as he stood tall and fisted his free hand at his side. Memories of his and John’s younger days and all the trouble they’d managed to get into. His mind drifted to the summer of their senior year. He and John had gone to the lake with some friends. Being the only one on the highway might have been the only benefit of flying home in the middle of the night from his Escape Del Mar property. Less than five minutes later, Arik parked and wearily made his way through the private entrance of his downtown Dallas high-rise, shrugging out of his hand-tailored suit jacket before he reached the elevator.
What had to be a mere second later, the ringing started again. Kellus threw the covers away from his body and darted off the bed, angrier than he’d been in a very long time. “Come get him.” A deep masculine voice with a Spanish accent had him pulling the phone from his ear to look down at the screen in confusion. His chest bowed in defiance as if the guy on the other end of the phone were right there in his darkened bedroom. A healthy, glowing, handsome John had teased him unmercifully until he had finally agreed to skinny dip… ” Kellus whipped off the covers and rose, angry and worried. Kellus stopped dead center in his bedroom, fuming; he was so pissed at himself, at his own indecision, at John. John had destroyed both their lives, shit on him over and over with absolutely no regard for his feelings whatsoever. At the elevator, he tossed the garment over his arm and entered his exclusive security code into the wall-mounted keypad, effectively locking the car for his personal use. The technology didn’t require him to do anything more than step inside before the doors closed and the overhead floor-indicator light displayed each passing floor, a soft ding sounding repeatedly as he traveled non-stop up the forty or so floors to his penthouse.
The fatigue of the day settled heavy on his shoulders. After so many hours holding a brush for the fine details of his painting, his hands cramped with the movement, and the muscles in his neck and back protested the long hours he’d put in today. Arik absently tossed his suit jacket on a chair in the living room, never straying from the direct path to his bedroom. He was human after all, and this particular BT was especially skilled.
He pulled his shirttails from his slacks, his level of sheer exhaustion rising with each step he took. ” A small pop sounded and confetti flew into the air, scattering across his bed. He stopped at his dresser, reached inside his front slacks pockets and casually tossed the contents on the small tray. My name is Steffan.” Steffan—yeah, he remembered that now.
So come back once in a while to check for any additions (I’ve been cramming so some of my confirmations are still pending),2 winners will get to pick three books from the pile below.
He was fucking tired—tired of his fucked-up life and tired of this motherfucker who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. Who else would call in the middle of the fucking night? “You give him that shit, you deal with him.” The harsh laugh on the other end of the line held what might have been genuine amusement. Arik rested against the back wall, forcing a finger into the knot of his necktie to loosen its tight hold. Dallas as a whole was quieter than any place he’d ever lived.
With a vengeance, he zeroed in on the location of the noise. “I deal with him and it won’t end well.” The line went dead. ” Kellus sliced the hand still holding his cell through the air with finality. At this point, he’d still get a few good hours sleep before he had to start his day. He then removed each cuff link at his wrist and absently dropped them into his slacks pockets. He walked the few steps to his front door, pulling out his wallet to wave in front of the security pad when the doors didn’t unlock at his arrival.
I can hear he’s breathing hard from the other side of the bed. “Then you broke down crying hysterically because Fred, your fifth-grade goldfish, never loved you so he just up and died, like a goldfish can commit suicide!
After 45 minutes of that nonsense, you started going on about how you let Jeremy Fletcher get away, and how he was the one for you, even though you were eight when he moved away! ” He comes to stop, facing away from me, rubbing his temples.
These books are a mix of new, previously loved, one is signed, and an arc.