Ghost Avenger by Serena Akeroyd

Author:Serena Akeroyd [Akeroyd, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Jayce

Dry, Drake looks like a sex god.

Wet?

Christ, it seems impossible that he’s a desk jockey. A fancy one, but a rider of paperwork nonetheless.

He has muscles within muscles, and I don’t mean like your favorite book cover model. These are... intense. Like solid, packed.

Opposite one of those six-packed Gods in the gym, they look blown up, over inflated. Drake looks mean as hell, but he is, admittedly, smaller than those kinds of dudes.

I strip faster than him, eager to watch him get naked. Hey? Who can blame me? I stripped in the limo. It’s his turn to give me a show.

His shirt came first, revealing a split chest and what looked like an eight pack, but because I figured they were as much an urban legend as Marla, I had to blink a few times to make sure I hadn’t been deceived. Then, I saw his biceps and realized the guy works out but not in any way I’d have imagined.

Wasting hours pumping iron is not Drake’s style. Not one little bit.

When he toed out of his leather loafers then unbuttoned his fly, letting his pants fall to his hips and then shoving them down with a push from his hands, I felt my mouth drop open at his cock—which is loooovely and hard for me—but also, his thighs and calves.

The bookish Drake I thought I knew has another side to him.

How did I miss that?

His lips twitch at my prolonged gawk, and when he puts his hands on his hips, inadvertently framing his eminently suckable shaft, it takes a while for me to hear what he’s saying. “Are you just going to look?”

I blink at him then pounce. He laughs as he stumbles back into the wall, managing to grab me when I hook my legs around his hips, but the momentum of my move drags him back.

He steadies himself, then cups my ass. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Busy fiddling with his arms and the intense muscles there, I mumble, “How often do you work out?”

He frowns. “Is that what you’re looking at?” he sounds disappointed.

I snort. “I was admiring your dick too.” Laughter bubbles from me when he looks a little more satisfied by that response.

“Every day. I practice yoga.”

“There’s no fucking way you get muscles like these from yoga alone.”

He shrugs, and a moan escapes me at how that makes me jostle against him. His eyes turn fiery, and I know he liked the way our torsos and sexes rubbed together too. “I practice some martial arts a couple of times a month too. Would be stupid not to in a city like Manhattan.” I grimace at that, guilt filling me. He seems to understand though, because he shakes his head. “When we get back, I’ll set you up at my dojo.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s where I train. You can join too. That way I don’t have to worry about you getting mugged.”

“I take cabs everywhere,” I try to assure him. But he doesn’t bite.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.