Reaching Reed

REACHING REED CORA ROSE NICOLE DYKES CREDITS Editor: Angela O’Connell Copyright © 2023 by Cora Rose and Nicole Dykes All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. To Kari Monty and Ariadna Basulto. There are two of us now. We’re mostly sorry. CONTENTS Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Cora Rose PREFACE This started out as smut for Patreon, but then we fell in love with these characters and had to give them their happily ever afters. So now we have three books planned. Maybe five. Depends. We will be writing this series until we are two hundred years old. Or until Cora Rose dies from a heart attack. CHAPTER ONE Carter Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’s late. I literally do not have the time to deal with this shit. If he stands me up, I’m gonna be so mad. Because listen, I wasn’t raised to be on time. No, my moms are chronically late to everything, bless their hearts. They value completing tasks over being on time. I was late to everything growing up—dance class, school, birthday parties—and it was awful. So now, I can’t stand tardiness. And this guy is tardy as fuck. If it was my kink, I’d give him a spanking. Not that I know if this guy is into that shit. I don’t even know him. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve gone insane. I mean, have I legitimately lost it completely? Because I am currently sitting here, waiting for some stranger to come over and fuck me—or maybe I’ll fuck him? I don’t know. We never discussed the details. I just shot him a reply message like, Hey, I’m down to fuck. Let’s do this. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. I was just so fucking bored with it all. So, when Reed Ellis reached out on Twitter, I agreed…when what I should have done was just hit delete. I mean, this guy only has like a hundred followers. He’s a total unknown, whereas I’ve been with the best of the best. I’ve been camming for four years—since I was twenty—and my loyal subscribers salivate for the collaborations I’ve done with other well-known camboys. But then one night, there I was, bored out of my fucking mind and I just randomly agreed to fuck a newbie. Total mind blown, bat-shit crazy. But if I really think about it, there was just something about him. His eyes in his profile picture—soulful, lost puppy dog eyes—spoke to me. I was feeling just a little bit sad, maybe a bit homesick and nostalgic, so I agreed to do a collaboration. My best friend, Bennet, says I’ve gone and done it. Well, apparently, I have. Because if this guy stands me up, I’m going to be out the cash for this session. If there is one thing Carter Langley shines at, it’s making money when I’m on camera fucking or being fucked. I guess I could do something solo. I could come on command without touching my dick. That’s an impressive skill, really. People pay to see that. Taking another long sip of wine, I stare at the door, willing Reed to appear. Maybe he got cold feet and decided this wasn’t for him. Not many people can handle this shit. It’s not a life everyone wants for themselves. Just when I’m about to give up and call this night a loss, a heavy knock lands on the door. It vibrates through the space and I freeze for a second, my legs locking in place. Well, fuck, I’m startled and a little nervous. Not entirely sure why, but I shake it off. Nothing to be nervous about. This is my job and I excel at it. I am a businessman. “Took his goddamn time,” I mutter, setting my wine glass down on my gray granite countertop and moving my feet over the vinyl flooring. I tighten the drawstring of my silk robe around my waist and grab the door handle, willing my breathing to even out. I’ve got this. I swing the front door open, and there he is, in the flesh. And not to sound like Hannibal Lecter, but it’s nice flesh too. I let my eyes slide from his neatly styled dark brown hair, across his broad shoulders and straining pecs to his thick thighs. He looks a few inches taller than my five feet, ten inches, but he’s definitely more muscled than me, sturdier. I’m lean and toned, but it’s mostly just good genetics. Hmm, well, his picture really didn’t do him justice. He’s much tastier in real life. Yes, I do sound like a cannibal. But I could so eat this guy for dinner. But then again, he was late, so maybe not. How fucking rude. Who raised this man? Wolves? Barbarians? My mothers? Break the cycle, Reed. You don’t need to be feral. “Couldn’t be bothered to show up on time?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him, trying to make my voice sound teasing, but it has an underlying bite to it. Reed runs a hand through his hair and glances up at me almost shyly, his dark eyes wide. “Yeah, um, right,” he says softly. No explanation. Nothing. Not even a fucking apology. I roll my eyes and reach out, tugging him inside. My hand is wrapped around his forearm and the feel of his skin on mine causes a small shudder to move up my spine. Unusual, but I