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“Hey, sweetheart.” She was probably the only person in the world who would call me that.
Mark better call Chet sweetheart
“Let me ask you a question.” “No, I won’t be your Valentine.” “It’s July.” “I’m hot property.” “You just said you couldn’t get laid.”
“Quit throwing my completely inane logic back in my face.”
“She’s cute, but…” Didn’t make fun of my ties or have a mouth that was just as sexy when it was scowling as it was smiling.
I’d been born into nothing and ended up with everything. Chet had been born into everything and ended up with nothing.
To Chet’s credit, the falter in his smile would’ve been undetectable if I hadn’t gotten so well acquainted with his lips.
Why was I back here again? Oh yeah, because my libido had taken the wheel and was a really shitty driver.
“You know what?” I snapped my fingers, then lowered my voice when the guy across the way glared at me. “We should have an actual pissing contest. Right here. Right now. Whip it out.”
“Fuck me,” I moaned again. It felt so fucking good and I was so fucking screwed. “I’d love to, thanks for the offer.”
Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I blew my load. Just like that. Just because Chet Pynchon told me I was sexy and tight in a growly, pure sex voice.
“Pynch,” he moaned. My name in his mouth. My weakness. I wanted him to keep saying it in that throaty, wrecked murmur.
Sex with him, like everything else between us, was both savage and tender, temperamental and incredibly fucking hot.
“I mean, if you want to stay.” “I do,” I assured him. In fact, I never wanted to leave. I’d pretty much forgotten there was a world outside these four walls, and I wasn’t in any hurry to remember it.
“I would’ve let you in anytime.” I met the dark pools of his eyes, the confession soft. “I always will. I don’t know that I’d ever be able not to.”
Chet: I wasn’t going to try to get you hard. Chet: Was gonna tell you that tie’s not awful. Mark: Thank you, I think. Chet: Would be better as a blindfold. Or wrapped around my fist. With you on your knees. Think I could persuade you to try a different kind of ropes course? Mark: JFC this is exactly what I’m talking about. Bye.
Chet: I want to take you out. Mark: Mafia style? Or like to dinner and a movie. Chet: Idiot.
It wasn’t until a few years later that I figured out the bitter jealousy I’d felt over it had little to do with Jenny or Sarah, and even less to do with some dumb but persistent sense of competition with Mark.
“So I just hop on?” “Unless you want to levitate your ass onto the seat, yeah.”
I’ll be gentle, sweetheart, I promise.”
All boys should call each other sweetheart
We’d been swoops and dives and potholes for most of the time I’d known him. But for this moment right now, it felt like open road between us, and it was my heart that was moving at breakneck speed.
Because the truth was, nothing else felt as good as Mark Farrow. I wasn’t sure anything else ever could.
Silver Ridge sprawled below us. At night, it looked like a reflection of the sky, and I made a mental note to bring him back to see it sometime. He probably had already, but not with me. Fuck, maybe I needed to curb my enthusiasm some before I started writing him terrible poetry.
“Didn’t mean I always got what I wanted, or even close, really,” I muttered. “What’d you want?” I cocked my head at him, and the goofy smile on his face fell away as he discerned the implication.
<3
I wanted this always, wanted it to be like this between us forever. The push and the shove, the way he occupied the back of my mind like he’d bought property there, moved in, and repainted.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, son, I know it.” What I actually heard was “fall in line.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t jealous. Just that…I trust you.” He squeezed my shaft, and I moaned. “I know what you like.” Another squeeze. Another moan. “I know who you are.”
“I experimented myself a couple of times. Might even go so far as to call myself bi, too.
Mark's dad and Chet's dad totally had a thing
Now he was next-level devastating, because I knew exactly how that sensual mouth felt on mine, all too well how his dark eyes could pierce my best defenses. And since we weren’t doing a whole hell of a lot of talking, he wasn’t half as annoying—if he’d ever been so in the first place.
when he cracked a tiny smile, my heart surged. Then, of course, he spoke.
That’s what I felt like now. Unsteady, wobbly, hovering above an abyss of the unknown and desperately wishing I had the security of him across from me.
“You said you’d always let me in. You said you wouldn’t be able not to. Was that fucking true, or wasn’t it?”
“I love you,” he whispered. “I tried really fucking hard not to, but—” “I know.” “You do?” I pulled back just far enough to find his eyes. I didn’t want there to be any mistake. “I love you, too. Knew it that night at Kacey’s party. Knew it that night in your bedroom. Knew it that night in your car with Cam—God, did I know it then. I couldn’t stop looking at you. I—” “Shut up,” he murmured, and hooked a hand around the back of my neck, dragging my mouth back to his.
This might be the best declaration of love I've ever read
“Are you mine, Farrow?” I growled, possessive and feral. He cried out as I speared into him brutishly. “Say it,” I demanded. “I am. Shit. I’m so fucking yours. Goddamn.”
“Fuck, baby,” I murmured into his throat.
BABY. WE GOT A BABY
“Good talk,” I said drolly as I eased down next to him. “Agreed. I think that about sorts everything, right?”
I just want a guy with a big dick—because, yes, I’m a size queen and—” “I have a big dick.” Sam wandered in,
Ah, next book
Jemison vs. Farrow Capital.
Ooh blackmail
“Ugh,” Jesse groaned next to me and held up his drink. “I definitely need another.” A second later, a waiter took the empty glass and replaced it with a flute of champagne, and his eyes brightened. “Oh hey, that’s really great service.”
I adore Jesse
I will dedicate the same level of effort I’ve poured into trying to make you proud of me over the years toward taking down the thing you love most so you’ll remember how it feels. Because Chet Pynchon is the one thing I love most, and that’s not changing.”
“You come in through the front door with me from now on.”
Or in the case that I might like to be treated to dinner.” “I can definitely manage that. Do you like McDonald’s? They have the best quarter pounder.”
“Don’t move,” I said, and he turned his head at a quarter angle, so I could see his mouth curving up. “Why not?” “This is your best side.” “That so?” “Yep. Can’t see your tie.”
“He kissed me once, did I ever tell you that?” My mouth fell open. “You’re shitting me. What?”
God I fucking called it
I had my best friend back, and I’d gained the love of my life, too.
“I think we should go out tonight. Celebrate your first…” He tapered off as I caught the ball, set it on the court next to me, and lowered onto one knee. “Farrow,” he said softly, his eyes widening. “I think you should marry me and we can celebrate for the rest of our lives.”
I was one thing he was never in danger of losing again.
They were the eyes of the boy I’d once called my best friend, and the eyes of the man I’d fallen in love with over and over in the last four years. I’d seen them dulled by a bad day, shining with victory after he’d won his first case, hot with lust when they met mine from across a room. And my favorite of all: the quiet contentment that happened sometimes when we were just lying in bed facing each other.
“How is it that I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted and it’s somehow nothing that I ever expected?”
