Finley (Sunset Cove #1) by Ella Frank

Author:Ella Frank [Frank, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ella Frank, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

AFTER A SHOWER and a shave, Daniel found Brantley seated out on the deck with a carafe of orange juice, milk, two bowls, and a box of Honey-Nut Cheerios. Ahh, his favorite. He had to admit that it was nice to be around someone who knew him almost as well as he knew himself.

He pulled up a seat and sat in the shade of the umbrella. Brantley was also freshly shaven, and he was put back together in pristine condition. One wouldn’t have ever known that the refined man currently reading the newspaper had dry-humped him until he’d climaxed a little over thirty minutes ago, and that was a secret he had always loved knowing. That he could make Brantley Hayes lose his cool.

That had never gotten old, and it still gave him a fucking thrill. He remembered how he’d felt every time he’d stepped into class and seen his professor standing behind the podium, giving a lecture. That intense arousal mixed with pride—and yeah, a healthy dose of possession, because he knew what his teacher was like when he got home and took those tailored dress pants and preppy sweaters off.

“Stop staring at me and pour your cereal, Finn.”

“I like staring at you,” he said as he reached for the box. “Always have.”

Brantley lowered one corner of the newspaper and raised an eyebrow. “Yes. I seem to remember that preoccupation of yours. That’s what got us into trouble the first time.”

As he filled his bowl, Daniel winked and then picked the milk up. “Don’t lie. That was my shorts.”

“You’re probably right. They really were indecent.”

“Bet you’re wishing I still had them though, aren’t you?”

Brantley scoffed and went back to reading. “Shut up and eat, would you?”

He shoveled a spoonful of Cheerios in his mouth, and when Brantley reached for his orange juice and took a sip, he remembered to ask, “Oh, did you call Posh Spice back?”

Brantley coughed, and it sounded as if he were choking, but he managed to swallow the juice and then ask, “Who?”

He waggled his eyebrows and sat back in his chair. “Professor Jordan Devaney—a.k.a. Posh Spice.”

As Brantley’s eyes widened, Daniel finished his mouthful and then pointed at him with his spoon. “That’s what Derek and I called him through college.”

Brantley’s slack jaw was comical as his mouth moved like he was trying to form words but nothing was coming out.

“You know—the flashy clothes, the attitude, that awesome swing he has to his hips.”

Finally over his shock, Brantley folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. “And dare I ask what you called me?”

He licked his lower lip and looked over the top of his sunglasses at him. “Oh, you had many names in my head, but none I was going to share with Derek. From memory, though, he always referred to you as professor hottie.”

“He did not.”

“Yep. He did.” He sat back, finished with his cereal, and raised his orange juice to his lips. “What about you two? Don’t tell me you didn’t talk about us, because I won’t believe you.

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