Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

Gavin nods, and his hands tighten around my head as he holds me still and starts fucking my face. He groans as he thrusts, his balls slapping up against my chin. He speeds up, and I’m starting to gag, but I force myself to relax more, feeling my throat and tongue massage his cock.

I reach around, my fingers digging into his ass cheeks as he thrusts into my mouth, and he groans. “Fuck, Bri . . . I’m going to come . . .”

The first blast of his release is so deep that I just feel it rocket down my throat. He starts to pull back, my mouth clamped around his shaft while he fills my mouth with his cream.

When he’s done, I tuck his cock back into his underpants before looking up and swallowing the last of his come, wiping the last bit off my chin and sucking my finger clean for him.

He smiles at me as I finally manage to gulp it down, asking jokingly, “did you enjoy your snack?”

I nod, making a face at the aftertaste. Sweet and tangy. “I sure did.”Gavin

I plop down in my chair, sighing to myself as I look at the glass of brandy in my hand. I really shouldn’t be drinking, but I can’t help it. I feel like shit.

What the fuck are you doing? I think to myself as I brood over my date with Brianna. You’re leaving in just a few more days. You know that after this, you’re going to be so exhausted for the next eight months that you’ll barely be able to email, let alone come see her.

But you’re screwing her again.

Worse, the way you talked to her . . . you’re only going to hurt her.

That’s why I’m holding the brandy in my hand. It was after we’d had sex and she’d gotten dressed. I offered to take her back to her apartment, figuring that after what we’ve been through, she would like to have a shower and get her things from the hotel later.

Instead, she insisted that she had to get some things from her locker and that it would be more convenient for her if I just took her there. Normally, I wouldn’t have batted an eye, but there was something in the way she said it, like she wasn’t really telling me the truth.

The fact is, I’ve been more honest with Brianna than I have been with almost any woman. Nobody else has heard about the way my mother is pressuring me, and I know for damn sure that I’ve told no one else that I sometimes feel like a failure. There’s something about her that makes me open like a book.

But for her to be holding back from me, it bothers me.

I sigh and take a sip. This needs to stop. I know it’s going to hurt, but the longer I let this go, the more problems there are going to be. I need to tell her that this has to stop.

You can’t do that. Admit it, you’re starting to need her.

I take another swig, wincing as the fiery alcohol burns its way down my throat. Sadly, my inner voice might be right. Just thinking about telling her that I won’t see her again feels like a knife in my gut. It’s all my fault though. I’m the one who let it get this far. I should’ve stuck to my plan of just one night.

Instead, I let her get inside. I feel weak.

Thoughts of her soft body, the way she kissed me, and the way her juices tasted flood my mind, making my cock hard as a rock.

It’s not something I can easily forget. Nor do I want to.

But she’s hiding something from me. Frustrated, I throw back the rest of my glass and look at the bottle. It’s half-full, but I shouldn’t drink any more. I’m feeling tipsy as fuck, and now that I can’t think straight, maybe I can finally get some sleep.

* * *

The blaring of the room phone startles me awake, sunlight stabbing daggers into my eyes and making me wince. I groan, grabbing my pounding head, the blood vessels in my temple feeling like they’re going to burst. Fuck, I feel like shit. Drinking normally isn’t my forte, so it’s my fault I have a brutal hangover. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk that much, but I did it anyway.

I’m tempted to just knock the phone to the floor and tell whoever is on the other end to go to hell, but I don’t. Instead, I pick up the handset, wishing I had about a two-pound aspirin to take care of this headache. “Hello?”

“Hey.” It’s Miranda.

“Yeah?” I ask, my voice sounding slurred and groggy.

“What’s going on?” she asks, sounding alarmed. “You sound like shit.”

I clear my throat and try not to sound like a frog. “I just woke up.”

“Hmm,” she says, obviously not convinced. “Well, I’ve got some good news, but it’s gonna cost you. The love scene has been delayed, but that means that you have to be down here in front of the fire station in town in thirty minutes.”

“Huh? What for?” I ask, gritting my teeth at the pounding in my temple.

“It’s part of the deal,” Miranda says. “We need to do some publicity for the movie. Jim said he needs a few frames for the trailer and some stuff for the movie poster.”

I hold back a groan, trying to process what she’s saying.

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. I bet Miranda is nervous as fuck right now. “Can I count on you, Gavin?”

I rub my eyes and glance at the clock. I don’t want to go. But what other choice do I have? “Okay, I’ll be there,” I grudgingly tell her, hanging up the phone.

I get up, get a quick rinse in the shower, and get dressed, my head pounding the entire time. I grab a pair of sunglasses and head down to the center