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“Icky, huh?” I asked. “There’s only one way to find out.” Before he could respond, I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him toward me. I saw his lips part in surprise and his eyes widen in shock. For the merest of seconds, I considered stopping but then his pink tongue darted out to lick his lips, and I was lost. Completely, totally, utterly lost.

I knew it wasn’t possible because bullshit like fireworks exploding when lips touched didn’t happen in the real world…but it fucking happened. The very second my lips collided with his, my world tilted. His lips were plump, and he tasted delicious. He hesitated and then tore into me with the enthusiasm of a man hungry for lip-fucking. I’d intended to control the kiss, maybe even try to scare him just enough to convince both of us what the truth was, but instead of being the aggressor, I allowed myself to enjoy his exploration. He used his tongue. I liked that. He used his hands and touched my face, neck, and tugged at my hair. I liked that a lot. He’d wiggled his body until he straddled me, and his hips moved in unsure but needy thrusts. I liked that a fucking lot.

His cock was hard. Mine was even harder.

It took all my willpower to not flip him onto his stomach and shove my cock into him so deep that he’d never question his sexuality again…or who he belonged to.

Where in the hell had that thought come from?

Then, just as quickly as the kiss had started, it ended. Micah pulled away, gasping air into his lungs while staring at me with those large beautiful eyes. “Wow,” he whispered.

“Icky?”

“Very icky,” he answered. “So icky that I think I need to do it again. And again. And again. Well, you get the picture. See? Gay for you, Landon.”

My cell started ringing again, interrupting what was building up to be the most magical moment of my life. Maybe it was a warning—something to wake me up from my fantasy. Yeah, it had to be a fantasy. I was a middle-aged man in bed with what the world referred to as one of the most beautiful men in the world.

“Stop thinking,” Micah ordered. “Your eyes are telling me things I don’t want to see…or hear. Stop overthinking it. Let’s have fun and say ‘fuck you’ to the rest of the world. I’ve spent my life answering to somebody else, living the life they wanted for me instead of what I wanted. Come on, have fun with me!” He looked toward my still-ringing phone. “Put me first,” he said and then a pretty blush painted his cheeks. “I mean…that’s not…I shouldn’t have said that. There’s no reason for you to do that. I’m sorry I said that.”

Just like that, my beautiful boy disappeared. Insecurity replaced his confidence. That—I didn’t like.

I’d never been one to woo someone with whispered words of love or intimate gestures. I had no idea how to do it now but knew something needed to be done…to be said. He tried to scamper away, but I held him tightly, refusing to allow his escape. Strange, I’d felt unable to move him off me a few moments ago but had zero problems keeping him on top of me. “What exactly do you consider fun, Micah? I’m several years older than you; we might not call the same things fun.”

His sassy grin immediately returned. “I think fucking is fun.”

I grinned. “Well, it looks like there won’t be a problem with the age gap, then. I think fucking is fun, too.”Chapter SixJinxI scowled in Landon’s direction. For some unknown reason, he’d ushered me into the car and then stepped back outside and stood there like he was waiting for someone. Damn, even when I was thoroughly pissed at him, I still had to admit he was the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on…which made me even grouchier at the moment.

“Fucking is fun,” I said, mimicking his words and tone from earlier and adding a heavy dose of my own sarcasm. “I wouldn’t know, would I, Landon?” I knew he couldn’t hear me, but it felt really good to gripe at him anyway. After the hot kiss, flirting words, and agreement that we both thought fucking was fun, Landon had scooped me out of bed and pushed me toward the shower, pointing at his watch to remind me of my morning commitments. I’d argued, pouted, and eventually demanded that he fuck me, but he’d refused. Flirted, but refused. Flat. Out. Re-fucking-fused.

Finally, a woman walked up to him, handed him a package, gave him a wink, and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. She was way up in my man’s personal space. Jealousy roared through my body. Wow. I’d never been jealous before. It wasn’t a good feeling. I mean, seriously, she winked at him. Right in front of me. I knew it was wrong to hit a woman so I did the only thing I could; I banged on the window to remind him I was in the car and ready to go.

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