Gus (Bar 28 Book 1) by JJ Harper

Author:JJ Harper [Harper, JJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-28T18:30:00+00:00

Me and my blabbermouth. He’s not going to let it drop. We’ve only just started to get to know each other. We’ve spent more hours in bed than we have talking and learning about each other. Tonight has been different, though. We talked and talked and talked some more. He knows about my family, and he told me about his brother and the relationship they have with each other, how they became the only family they needed. I like that they stuck together when their parents stopped giving a shit.

“You okay, baby.” Max strokes down my neck and over my shoulders. It’s such a tender touch, one that feels so familiar, like he’s done it to me a thousand times before. It’s like I’ve been waiting for him, that he’s the man I’m supposed to be with. “Talk to me, Gus, I’m freaking out a bit here. Have I done something wrong?”

His concern is genuine not only in the tense set of his jaw and the crease of worry on his forehead but also in his eyes as they stare deeply into my own. Dare I share my thoughts and feelings? The water is pounding down on us. Droplets cling at his eyelashes, sparkling like diamonds. Then he blinks, and they fall to join the others on his cheeks. Without thinking, I brush his cheek with one finger, searching for the right words. He turns his head and places a kiss on the palm of my hand, the gesture so sweet my heart beats faster.

“No, you haven’t, I promise. We should get clean and get out of here. Then I’ll try to explain what I’m feeling. Just promise you won’t laugh or call me crazy.”

With a nod, Max picks up the soap and rubs it in his hands to build up a lather, then washes me. His hands stroke over every inch of me in smooth, gentle circles, starting on my neck and travelling down over my chest and stomach. He nibbles at my ear, trails over my cheek, and takes my mouth in a hot kiss. But it’s a different kiss from the ones we share as we desperately strip our clothes off or when we’re fucking. This has every emotion I’m feeling in it—fear, want, longing for more. More of this, more of him. Is it possible we could be on the same page?

When we’re both clean, the last remnants of sex washed down the drain, Max switches off the shower and passes me a large charcoal-grey towel. He then takes another for himself from the heated towel rail.

We dry ourselves in silence, both deep in thoughts. Max gingerly takes my hand and leads me back to his bed. I lie down on my side, facing him, as he mirrors my position.

“Talk to me, or at least explain why you mentioned your mother after your epic orgasm.” He has lost a bit of his tension, but not all the concern is gone.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It was a bit of a mood killer.

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