Sweet Sutton

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Sweet Sutton Page 8

by J. D. Light


  CALL ME BABY

  AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER NOW!

  RELEASE DATE JUNE 19, 2018!

  CHAPTER ONE

  I stumbled sleepily out of my room, wondering groggily if I should have actually made the effort to search out my other house shoe, because I was pretty sure wearing only one was going to be one of those things I regretted once I had caffeine dancing merrily in my blood stream.

  Okay, so claiming the room I was kinda vacating—I was out in the hallway now…sorta—was a bit of a stretch. The house actually belonged to my brother, but he was busy shacking up with his sexy neighbor, and I was running from a psycho. So, I was claiming that shit.

  Catching my poor, little, un-shoed pinky-toe on the baseboard at the top of the stairs, I cussed my effing A off, wondering the whole time if fuckityshitbitch was even a word, and if saying it over and over again could change it’s non-word status, and possibly make me famous and/or rich.

  Stumbling around the top of the staircase, cussing creatively should be an incentive for a vision-impaired person like myself to maybe put on my glasses. But those bitches were staying perched on my head, because as stated before, I hadn't had my coffee yet, and that meant I had a lot of eye rubbing in my immediate future.

  Wandering around the kitchen for a good five minutes while ignoring the muted voices coming from the living room, I grumbled when I opened the cabinet I was pretty sure was supposed to have the magic mugs that one used for coffee consumptions, for the thirty-something-ith time and still didn't see any.

  Seeing, being the operative word.

  "Sutton?! Why the fuck do you keep movin' the coffee cups," I yelled in my delightful southern accent that I couldn't fucking seem to drop, in the general direction of the entrance to the living room.

  I knew him and his man were in there being all lovey-dovey at too early in the fuckityshitbitching morning, because they had been every damn day for the past three mornings.

  "Put your glasses on, B. They're right where they've always been."

  Scoffing, I made a face at the cabinet they were clearly not in. "I don't wanna."

  I rubbed my eyes, turning to lean a hip against the counter, which led to one of those full body stretches that felt so amazing you were pretty sure you might have had an orgasm, and then rubbed my eyes again.

  I moaned, dropping my hands and then squealed when a gorgeous human, kinda came into focus right in front of me. "Fuckityshitbitch!" I clutched my chest and frowned at the half dressed man in my brother's kitchen, who definitely wasn't Ronny. "Sutton!? Why do you always have sexy-ass, men who only wear sweatpants runnin' around yours and Ronny's houses? Do we need to talk about your sex life?"

  The man in front of me was slightly taller than Ronny, but maybe not quite as wide. His hair was a lovely, if blurry shade of light, golden brown and even without my glasses, I could see the chiseled perfection of his torso.

  Was he hard? I think he might have been.

  Maybe I should put my specs on. Something told me, this is a sight I wanted to actually see.

  Half naked dude chuckled, and something about that sound made my chest warm and achy at the same time. I found myself smiling at whatever the fuckityshitbitch time it was in the morning.

  A growled, "that's not fucking funny," from the living room made me actually giggle. Ronny was such a possessive bastard. He was probably going to prohibit all these delicious, shirtless men from coming on to his and Sutton's property now.

  The man held up a finger in front of me. I honestly wasn't sure if he was telling me to hold on, or flipping me off, so I squinted at the digit until the same hand moved for my head. For some reason, I stood there, and let the man get entirely too close to me, as he grabbed my glasses, and very gently slid them down my face to perch unwanted onto my nose.

  I frowned, wondering if I could pull off acting like a petulant child in front of this guy and still maybe not make a bad impression, but my frown and my jaw dropped when my eyes managed to focus on all the skin on display before me.

  I think I made a noise that probably resembled getting the air knocked out of you, as I let my eyes move over his amazing body. I swallowed audibly when I found his swollen and chiseled arms and pecs, and I licked my lips when I got stuck on a pebbled nipple, before moving down his sinewy stomach, watching the flex and release of his abs, as his breathing seemed to be increasing. When I got to the low hanging gray sweats, I moaned. Like, actually moaned.

  He looked fucking delicious.

  "My eyes are up here, NBB."

  I cringed, closing my eyes and praying a little that I hadn't just heard that stupid nickname from that stupid––never going to admit that I find it sexy––voice, coming out of this gorgeous man that I absolutely had just been caught ogling.

  "So help me. If I open my eyes, and Foster is standin' here, I'm goin' back to Georgia."

 

 

 


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