The Contractor (Red’s Tavern #8) Read Online Raleigh Ruebins

Categories Genre: M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Red's Tavern Series by Raleigh Ruebins
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
<<<<1018192021223040>79
Advertisement


Tris was just watching me, with that same wistful affection in his eyes. “I think if we moved to Neptune, we’d freeze to death before we got much chance to hang out, Blue,” he said softly, returning his hand to my thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I breathed in deep, trying to maintain what little composure I still had.

“Worth it,” I said, which luckily got a little laugh out of him.

“Well, I know you’re just joking about moving to Colorado for me, because you’re drunk and you’re nervous about tomorrow’s plane ride, even though you’d never admit that.”

“Nervous about the plane ride?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

Tris nodded once. “I’ve only taken one plane trip with you before, but I remember you reaching over to clutch my arm any time even a bump of turbulence hit.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did,” Tris said. “It was cute, Blue, don’t worry about it.”

I’m drinking too much because I can’t stop myself from thinking about how perfect you are, you idiot, I thought.

Thank God I still had at least enough control not to say that shit out loud.

“Fine,” I said. “It’s getting late, anyway. Let’s head back. I’ll chug ten gallons of water or something. I really am looking forward to the flight, Tris.”

We paid up and Tris led us out of the bar. The night air was cool and a little humid, the sound of crickets filling the lazy street in front of Red’s.

“You ever notice that you feel drunker when you walk out of a bar?” I mused as Tristan and I ambled across the lot to his truck.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Inside the bar, you’re sitting down and chilling. Then you stand up and get out and realize you’re sloshed.”

I puffed out a laugh. “If that ain’t me, right now. Happened to me last time we were here, too.”

“Happened to both of us last time we were here,” Tris said. “God, I was drunk that night.”

“Drunk enough to do stupid shit like kissing me,” I said offhandedly. Immediately, I wished I could shove the words right back into my mouth.

I’d been doing so well not mentioning it. It had been two weeks, and I’d successfully avoided the topic, even though I’d thought about it every day.

Tris was silent for a beat, as if he’d been as surprised as I was to hear it. “That wasn’t stupid,” he finally said. He stopped as he got to his truck, leaning against the side of it and glancing at me.

My heart rate was rising. Fuck. Stupid drunken brain. Why did I have to mention it? I was making things weird.

“We danced like drunken idiots, you… you did that, and then we went home and crashed to sleep. It was at least a little stupid.”

“One-Hundo Policy?” he said, maintaining eye contact with me. “I kind of got a half-chub from that, Blue. And all we did was kiss.”

As he said it, my own cock throbbed under my jeans, aching at how turned on I got hearing those words come out of his mouth. I reached out to grab the side of the truck bed for balance and my hand slipped on a tiny bit of condensation on the metal. I stumbled, just a little, only to fall against Tristan as he reached out to help steady me.

I was a mess. A sloppy, drunk, horny mess.

“Okay, okay,” Tris was saying. “Let’s get you home, okay? I can tell you more about how good that kiss was when we’re back, all right?”

I felt like I was still lost in a haze, watching from somewhere far above as Tris led me over to the passenger side of the truck, got me up and in the passenger seat, and went around to the driver’s side himself. A few minutes later he was driving.

How good that kiss was. Those were the words he’d used to describe it—even now, as he was perfectly sober.

His hand found its way to my thigh again for the short ride back to my house. It was the kind of thing that would have seemed normal on any other day—just Tristan being Tristan, a sweetheart and a touchy-feely guy on any day. Tonight, that hand on my thigh felt like a beacon. I wanted so badly to go where it was leading me.

All I wanted was to be close to him again. So close. Too close. For years, it had been easy to ignore those urges, because they were ruled out of my mind as Never-Gonna-Happens.

But everything was different now.

When we got back to my place, I felt like my whole body was pulsing with a desire that I’d never let it come close to feeling before. I tried and probably failed to act normal as Tristan went in first, leading the way toward the kitchen. I leaned against the counter as he filled a big glass with ice and poured water over it, pushing it toward me.


Advertisement

<<<<1018192021223040>79

Advertisement