Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I should have questioned it more.
What if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and now he regrets it? What if I’m reading into it?
Anton looks at me over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Dead. I’m dead.” My voice is croaky and shaky.
Anton laughs. “Me too. I’m also really hungry. I should get back to the food.”
“You mind if I jump in the shower real quick?”
“Go for it. The food will be out when you’re done.”
I shower quickly because I don’t want to give Anton too much time to overthink it like I am, and when I get out and wander into the living room, where we ditched our clothes earlier, Anton’s got his jeans back on but is still shirtless.
He moves about his kitchen, putting everything together. He bought turkey pieces instead of a whole one seeing as it’s just us, but he made stuffing to go on top, despite my argument that it’s called stuffing because you’re supposed to stuff the turkey with it. He also has cranberry sauce, vegetables …
“I had no idea you could cook. Whenever I’ve been here, we’ve gotten takeout.”
“That’s because we’re both lazy asses.”
I snap my fingers. “Oh right. That.”
Anton smiles. “I don’t mind cooking, but I hate the cleanup afterward. I don’t have time or effort for that shit.”
“Well, seeing as you cooked, I promise I’ll clean after we’re done.”
“In everything we do?” Anton waggles his eyebrows.
“You want to go again? My dick is honestly asking for a time-out.”
“No. I’m too hungry to go again. But later. You know … for the team.”
My heart twinges. “Right. The team.”
I stand awkwardly while I wait for him to plate up the food. I would offer to help, but I’m too busy trying to assess where his head is at and if he’s okay.
Going bareback isn’t something to freak out about, especially considering I’m on PrEP. I have no idea of his status, but if he hasn’t lied about being exclusive, and we’ve had full medicals since we first made the agreement, I figure I should be okay. But from the beginning, Anton was adamant, and I worry he’s regretting it.
Though, he shows no signs of regret. He’s his usual self.
Even when he brings me my plate where I’m standing, he hands it to me with a soft kiss on my lips.
“Go sit in front of the TV,” he says and swats at my ass.
I take my spot on the floor next to the coffee table, still refusing to stain his couches with my messy eating. Apparently, I have different standards when it comes to sex.
I stare at the couch, thinking about how watching the parade led to getting naked on it. It was Anton who disappeared, saying he’d be right back, and then the next minute he was on top of me. He brought out the supplies. Including the condom.
“You okay?” Anton asks as he takes his seat on the other couch.
“Yeah. Just … thinking.”
“About?” He shoves some mashed potato in his mouth.
“Why you were suddenly so willing to go without a condom.”
Anton chokes on his food, coughing and spluttering. “Blunt, but umm, okay.” He thinks for a second. “It felt right in the moment.”
“You’re not freaking out and regretting it now? I should’ve gotten one. I know your rules, and—”
“I wasn’t freaking out about it, but it seems you are.”
“No, I …” Is it stupid to read so much into one teeny-tiny thing I’ve never thought was a big deal? There’s a voice screaming in my head, one that’s been nagging for weeks since Westly put it there. The one asking what does it all mean?
“You what?”
“Never mind. I didn’t want you to think I took advantage.”
Anton levels me with his dark stare. “Ez. If I didn’t want to do something, you know I wouldn’t. You don’t have that much of an effect on me.”
I can’t help smirking. “Uh-huh. That’s how I got you to fuck me when you despised me.”
“I always wanted to fuck you. Though, in my fantasies, you were wearing a ball gag.”
“That checks out.”
He’s still watching me, and I squirm a little at how intense his gaze is. “Come here.”
I hesitate, then push onto my knees, and he pulls me between his thighs.
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Caring about whether I was worried or not. But I’m not. At all. I think I’ve caught an illness where you’re concerned, and it’s affecting my decision-making abilities.”
I have a lump in my throat as I ask, “I’m guessing you don’t mean chlamydia?”
Anton drops his forehead to mine. “I trust you, Ez.”
That about does me in. Trust is a big thing, especially from someone like Anton who doesn’t do it easily. I’m not sure if I’m worthy of it, but I want to be.
I kiss him softly. “Here’s hoping you don’t regret that.”
“I’m confident.” He kisses me once more before letting me go.