Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

“I... I love you.”

He’d never said the words before. He’d wanted to, but always feared what the response would be. If Bradley didn’t say them back, it would have been the equivalent of a sharp knife driving itself through his heart. But right now, holding them in was also impossible.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment Sherman thought his worst dreams were going to be realized. But then, “I love you too,” Bradley said softly. “Now, will you hurry up and come home.”

Bradley loved him. Bradley loved him. Bradley loved him. Sherman repeated the mantra over and over again, feeling so damn swollen with happiness that he thought he might just be able to fly right back to Sydney without a plane. Bradley loved him.

And what made it even better? He loved Bradley too.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bradley could hear footsteps belonging to random members of the crew hustling outside the closed door. None ever came to a stop in front, but the number of times he heard a pair approach, suggested that sooner rather than later one would. On top of that, he could also hear the random shouting and yelling that was synonymous with all television and film sets; the shouting was in the distance, most likely on the sound stage and with nothing to do with him. But it was there, and it was somewhat distracting.

“What’s wrong?” Sherman asked, pulling his mouth free for just long enough to get the question out. As he did, a huge wad of saliva fell from his lips and splashed onto the floor by his knees.

“Nothing. Don’t stop.” Bradley ran his hand over Sherman’s head and then directed his boyfriend back to what he was doing. “Please don’t stop,” he groaned as Sherman went back to it.

Sherman tried to say something else, most likely a joke or sarcastic comment, but it came out as a series of muffled vowels and random sounds. It was hard to speak properly when your mouth was full of hard cock.

It was 1PM on a Tuesday, and the two men were in Bradley’s changing room waiting for his next scene to start filming. Bradley had been there all day, since well before sunrise, and it would be the same the next day and the day after that. Worse too that he was often forced to hang around until well after dark. But that’s what filming was like sometimes, a series of long, arduous days that never seemed to end. And truthfully, Bradley loved it.

Sherman however did not. And it wasn’t because he had no respect for Bradley’s work, or he thought Bradley was wasting his time, or any other number of reasons one might come up with for why spending twelve hours on set daily was an inconvenience. He simply hated it because it meant that he got less ‘Bradley time’ as he called it.

It was this small frustration that resulted in Sherman popping down nearly daily to say hello, drop off food, and really just make sure that everything was running smoothly for his one true love. Filming for Bradley’s show, Firing Day, had been going on for a month now and in those thirty days straight of work, Sherman had popped down on roughly twenty-five of them. Bradley loved it.

Today was like any other really. Bradley had started with the sunrise, giving Sherman a quick kiss as he climbed from bed and got ready. The morning shoots were always the worst as everyone was in a bad mood. But they pushed through them to lunch, which was always about an hour late. Bradley had only just sat down in his dressing room when his door flew open, and where he had assumed it would be Harmony telling him lunch was cut short today, he broke into a huge, unapologetic smile when it turned out to be Sherman.

“Hey, ho,” Sherman crooned as he strolled through the door. He had in one hand a single flower – from the looks of it, it was a pink rock lily, but Bradley wasn’t one hundred percent sure – and in the other he carried two Tupperware containers.

“There he is.” Bradley hadn’t been expecting him, not entirely anyway, but he hurried across the small room and gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. “And he brought me a present.”

“To add to the collection.” Sherman moved across the room to the make-up table where a vase was already perched, one filled with roughly a dozen different colored flowers or varying size and style. He popped the new one into the bouquet and did a hasty re-shuffle so as to make them really pop.

“Pink rock lily?” Bradley asked.

“Dendrobium Kingianium,” Sherman had then corrected. He spun around and fixed Bradley with a wicked grin. “But yes, you peasants refer to it as a pink rock lily.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, but then he practically threw himself at Sherman so as to kiss him again. And not just a little peck, but a full-on, passionate kiss on the lips. It was one of those kisses that make on-lookers feel a little grossed-out when they see random couples doing them in public; one step removed from full on intercourse basically.

The flowers were a silly thing. On Bradley’s first day on set, he had been terribly nervous, much more than he’d expected. As a means to calm his nerves, Sherman had promised to visit him during lunch and that he would ‘bring a surprise.’ The surprise turned out to be a single flower, a desert flame it was called. It was bright yellow and beautiful to look at... but also very singular and rather small.

“I’m going to add to it,” Sherman had pointed out when he popped it in the vase. “Each time I come see you, I’ll bring a different