Magic Mansion by Jordan Price (best fiction books to read .txt) 📕

cranny. Now they’d undoubtedly make him out to be an alcoholic for the sake of adding to the drama. He toed the door open with the sole of his shower sandal, considering exactly how risky it would be to do another True sweep of the room, when he got a good look at the actual culprit who’d broken into his quarters.

Sprawled on his bed in a pair of skimpy black briefs, hands tucked behind his head, smiling…lay Ricardo.

John set the tray on the nightstand, and said in his best serious voice. “Who let you in?”

“A three-pin lock? C’mon…I could’ve picked that when I was twelve—blindfolded. You’ll need to do better than that to keep me out of your bed.”

“Indeed.” He looked Ricardo up and down. The skating, the juggling—that must have been what was so perfect about his physique. Yes, he was meticulous about hitting the gym, but not just for show…and the results were captivating. “You’re not concerned anyone saw you coming here?”

“Concerned? Heck, I made sure they did. I told everyone I ran across I was paying you a visit. And that I hoped wardrobe let you hold on to those thigh-high boots.”

“Ricardo….”

“I’m proud of who I am. And I’m proud of us. I refuse to sneak around—I have nothing to hide.”

Nor, after the huge Casey revelation at the theatre, did John.

He allowed his robe to slide open, climbed into the creaky bed, and fit himself up against Ricardo, pushing his back to the wall. Ricardo’s eyelids dropped half shut, and he luxuriated in the press of their bodies with a long, contented sigh. He eased into a kiss, slow and gentle—and when, after several easy moments, he was satisfied, he said, “We made it to the Final Four, John. We team up against Kevin…and one of us has got to beat him.”

“Nothing is sure,” John said—and yes, he was fully aware of what a wet blanket he could be. And so he added, “But this, now, is the biggest prize I could hope for.”

___

VIDEO DIARIES

Jia Lee

Let’s face it, I’m an illusionist, a performer. Not a mathematician. I tried to protect myself—and I totally blew my chance at knocking Kevin out of the game.

That’s gonna haunt me.

For sure.

Bev the Math Wizard

I’m out of my league at this point, and I’m well aware of it. Strategy can only take you so far—especially now that we’re competing as individuals, and I don’t have a team to take up the slack for my physical limitations. I’ve got aches in muscles right now that I didn’t even know existed.

On the plus side—seeing Professor Topaz tearing through that course was pretty darn inspirational…when I get home, the first thing I plan to do is look into a gym membership.

Sue

I miss my Gold Team.

This isn’t fun anymore.

-CRYING-

I’m so…disappointed.

Kevin Kazan

Look out, yo, ’cuz Kevin Kazan in the Final Four. That quarter-mill prize? I’m gon’ crush anyone who gets in my way.

“Tough talk. It’s been a big day at the circus for our six remaining magicians, and now two of them…are going home. Who’s it going to be? The modern-day Chinese conjuror who’s proved that even in a man’s world, every woman has a fighting chance? The fifty-nine year old grandmother of three who’s made it this far on brains instead of brawn? Or the inspirational Gold Team leader, who’s bereft without her team?

“I’m your host, Monty Shaw, bidding you farewell until next time, when it’s up to you to decide…who will make it…to Magic Mansion’s Final Four.”

Chapter 33

FINAL FOUR

The cleanup following the Big Top Challenge was both extensive and loud. The metal bleachers boomed like thunder as they were dismantled. The truck that hauled the bounce castle away roared as if the muffler was hanging by a rusted pipe. And the crane made a shrill “backing up” alarm as it maneuvered clumsily off the lot. The ice, at least, had melted quietly…though John found it difficult to muster much annoyance for any of it. He’d woken with Ricardo nestled against his back. And nothing else mattered.

Voices from the yard carried through the weed-choked window, and then hammering. Ricardo murmured something groggy into the nape of John’s neck. John lay still, allowing Ricardo to hover there at the cusp of sleep as long as possible. Just enjoying the press of their skin, thigh to thigh, chest to shoulder blade. And once wakefulness began to steal over Ricardo in earnest, the press of something more.

John arched his back and stroked Ricardo’s morning-hard cock with his ass, and Ricardo’s breath caught as, all at once, he found himself very awake.

Their time in the Mansion was drawing to a close. One more final challenge? No, more likely, two. One to gain some sort of advantage and another for the win. And then…freedom.

John reached for the dwindling bottle of lotion on the nightstand and handed it back over his shoulder. Ricardo mm’ed his approval, and the smell of herbal fragrance enveloped them as Ricardo squirted it into his palm, faux green tea, or aloe, or whatever the trendy scent of the day was. It felt cold, but then Ricardo’s hard cock pressed against his ass, and very soon it was no longer cold at all. John spread his knees and arched his back more assertively, and luxuriated in the satisfying stretch, the pressure, the plunge. Ricardo continued to murmur hot, wordless noises in John’s ear, angling himself, working those sinuous hips, slowly at first, then faster. Harder.

The bed didn’t feel like John’s bed. And the body clasped to his back didn’t feel anything like Casey. And yet, John felt profoundly and utterly secure that somehow, when he’d least expected to find it, he’d stumbled onto something right.

They peaked, not quite as one, but all the better to enjoy each others’ broken gasps of ecstasy. And afterward, they simply lay together. Damp. Sated. Drifting yet again on the heady languor of newfound bliss.

Even the knock on the door wasn’t enough to startle them out of it.