Here’s chapter 20 of the new book, “Dangerous Roommate.” Enjoy reading. Let me know your thoughts about this chapter in the comment section below.

Stefan nearly fell over. Jesus Christ.He wanted him. And Frank’s innocent amazement at his touch was better than the best sex he had ever had. His body shot into overdrive. His erection strained his jeans, demanding its release.

He paused, mesmerized by the wide-eyed look on his face. He was so innocent. It was hard to believe. But this couldn’t be real. Frank had to be playing with him, enjoying the pleasure of his mind games. To his knowledge, no one looked as he did. He looked too beautiful, too perfect to be an average prostitute. For sure. Frank should be some first class. He must be some kind of a master manipulator, and he was using this—his stunning beauty—weaponizing it to seduce men like him.

For what? Sabotage?

Probably.

But as he continued watching the man take an unsteady breath, curling his fists, he thought no. Though his hands were covered with lace gloves, though the lash extensions and makeup covered his eyes, Stefan could see how shaky they were. He could see how his sweaty palms glistened on the material.

Frank was too uncomfortable to be manipulating him. He was too queasy to lie. Too tensed. Too frightened.

Then, he saw him licking his lips to ease. The tip of his tongue was pink.

He cursed. If Frank were a prostitute, he would have been a lucky pimp with loads of cash selling this bitch. Twenty-four-seven. In his mind, he might have been the best whore anyone had ever come across.

However, that changed when Frank caught his gaze. At that moment, he knew he had him in his hand. Because he felt like he was buying what he was selling to him in a big fricking way. To his surprise, he let his finger run up to the side of his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. He was afraid that he would leave a mark on it after a soft touch. Frank was that delicate.

His eyes dipped to his chest down to his hips, appreciating the contours of his curves, taking the time to enjoy the view of how voluptuous Frank was from how the material was pushed and stretched against it. His fingers moved to his mouth. He paused, wondering if he would pull away. Probably. He thought he would. But then, he saw Frank’s eyes had shifted, telling him he needed to keep going. He had to.

He brushed his cheek with a light touch while staring at his mouth. What would he taste like? He rubbed his lips with his thumbs. His lips were soft. So pink. So kissable. His breathing turned heavy as he traced the outline of his face with his fingers. When Frank looked away, he took his chin, gently pulling it in his direction.

“Look at me.” His voice grew intimate.

Surprised, Frank followed, watching him cradling his face. His chest was loud, and his throat was parched. His insides churned, but he tried to keep his composure as much as he could. When Stefan moved his hands from his shoulders to the couch, pressing his weight on his palms steady, his eyes landed on his lips.

Frank licked his lip to ease, only to end up feeling confused when he saw how the look in Stefan’s eyes had changed. Unlike most days, they weren’t mad or showing the typical Stefan the Stoic. Instead, Frank felt those eyes were hungry monsters welcoming his disaster. He closed his eyes as he kept getting closer. But when Stefan paused and looked at him, he opened them again and gulped.

“Don’t close your eyes until….” His voice was a calm, soothing, yet erotic whisper as he went closer and closer. “I make you mine.”

Then, his mouth touched his. It was a tentative touch, a brief sampling that quickly called for another. The second, then the third one, and without knowing it, their soft kisses turned explosive. The sensation was taking over, driving him to deepen the kiss. With gentle force, his tongue crawled, reaching, inviting him for a more aggressive smooch, leaving him with nothing but a demand to obey what he wanted. It left him confused, but he felt something strange.

Though Stefan looked too flat and rigid on the surface, deep inside, he had been keeping this extremely commanding force waiting to be unleashed, waiting to explode. His deep, savoring, and soulful kisses left him frantic. He couldn’t breathe properly, but before he could catch another breath, Stefan took his face in his hands, covering his mouth with his. He kissed him with the hunger he thought he’d just walked off.

Stefan pushed back and gave him a lustful look. “Look at yourself on the TV and see how beautiful you are,” he murmured before plunging his head, burying himself into his hair, stroking his skin, his ear, his jawline to his chin, down his neck with his tongue.

He followed, swiveling his head in that direction. As shock permeated his being, he felt the satisfaction he ever wanted while watching himself with the real Stefan. His mind struggled to reconcile the fact that he was there, touching him. What went on wasn’t just a by-product of his imagination. He wasn’t dreaming. Out of nowhere, he flashed a grin for the first time, enjoying the feeling of being wanted until a sudden flash of guilt, the same paralyzing guilt, struck him by lightning.

He froze.

But then, Stefan jerked his face forward and swallowed his mouth once more. While their lips locked, he went on removing his clothes, shoving everything that was on the way to the paradise he wanted. After he unbuttoned and unzipped his clothes with strength, almost ripping them apart, Frank was left naked down, leaving the high-cut underwear with the lingerie straps linked to the stockings and his platform boots on while he still kept his clothes on.

As he removed his tux and unbuttoned the top buttons of his long-sleeved white polo to loosen up, his amber eyes glowed him a long, carnal gaze.

For a second, Stefan looked like a sex god in business clothes—too impatient to wait and quench his thirst. His dark hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth eased open. Damn. He felt like his eyes preyed on him, wanting to taste him. And he wanted it now. So, when he did, it left him in utter shock.

After that penetration, that first feeling of his masculine strength was only the beginning. What Stefan did next nearly blew his mind. His mouth stroked him inside and out, using his hands, his mouth, and his teeth. He nipped, laved, and sucked his erection and then quickened the pace and the force when his breath came more quickly. At times, he filled him to the utmost and then playfully withdrew nearly all the way. Then, his mouth reentered with a sharp pulsing burst.

Hungry for everything he gave him, Frank touched him wherever he could, but the heat he stoked in him soon drove everything, releasing the wildness inside him he had never seen before. He clutched fistfuls of his hair, whispering his name and tugging him to the utmost. Nobody had ever made him feel wanted. And sexy. He had never had this feeling with Eunice. It was always kind of one-sided when it came to romance, and he, as a man, had to take the first initiative.

Especially not with these clothes on.

He did his best not to make a sound, but the force he earned from Stefan made him so wild. So wild that he feared he would lose himself as he screamed his name over and over again. And he had never heard himself screaming like that. That loud.

“Please, Stefan. Don’t,” Frank begged when he paused, only to erupt with a vengeance, throbbing against him as he reached the climax. After a few minutes, he slowly returned to consciousness as the euphoria started to fade away. He was conscious enough to feel the last spasms ravaging his body.

Then, Stefan rose with an interested look in his eyes and a smirk. Wow. That was the first reaction he got from him. He had never seen his lips stretch like that. And even if he would show any reaction, he was certain it was because he was either suspicious or mad at him.

But it wasn’t the case.

His face flushed as he struggled to catch his breath. He leaned forward to reach his face and gave him a kiss on the lips. “You did great, Kitty.” He paused as he pulled away, and when he noticed the shock swelling his face, his mouth stretched a wider smile. “Don’t worry. You taste good.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking into his eyes—a triumphant one.

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Author’s Note:

Thank you so much for spending time reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote this part months ago. This chapter, in particular, reminded me of those times when I sat before my desk, seemingly prepared to type in words, but I struggled to keep it up.

It took an external motivation to get it through, and, at that time, the NaNoWriMo event was upcoming. At that time, I thought, “This could be a great opportunity to try and give this a shot one more time. You’d done an excellent job with ‘The Rival,’ so you could do it, Mecyll.”

You know, it’s easier said than done because writing a chapter with a clear intent to finish it requires more than just a skill. Since I started writing fiction, I realized how much this work demands my ability to be naked and the guarantees to answer whether I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared to face my fears, conscious or unconscious.

So, being able to write this down meant I managed despite the countless times dancing around with depression and enjoying the roller coaster rides my anxiety provided me.

This is why I don’t know how to thank you for your support, regardless of the scale or contribution size, from sharing my work with others or buying my books. It doesn’t matter because, for me, every small act you show is appreciated.

Again, thank you, and have a great day!

If you like to support my writing life, here’s what you can do:

1. Get a copy of “The Rival” Uncensored Gay Romance Novel.
2. Read “Dr. Clay” (Cult of Eros #1)
3. Check out my latest book, “Non-Native Speakers Only.”
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