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Read Online Books/Novels:

Pisces Floors Taurus (Signs of Love #4.5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Anyta Sunday

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B07M76Q25M
Book Information:

Vacation time – time to try something new…

Spend some more time with Zane and Beckett in this short & steamy follow up to “Pisces Hooks Taurus’” as they deepen their bond.

Books in Series:

Signs of Love Series by Anyta Sunday

Books by Author:

Anyta Sunday Books

“Pisces Floors Taurus” is a short, erotic follow-up to Pisces Hooks Taurus (Signs of Love, #4).

Pisces Floors Taurus

Zane ushered Beckett inside the cabin he’d booked, dropped their ill-fated backpack and sleeping bags, and hurriedly blocked out the frosty night. Dim lights popped on, but Zane was too distracted to take in details. He stripped Beckett out of his clothes and steered him toward the thick rug seated before a leather couch.

“Undress, too,” Beckett demanded, trembling.

Without preamble, Zane yanked off his boots and clothes and tossed them atop Beckett’s near the bunkbeds.

He scanned the room and spotted a thick, decorative blanket hanging on the wall.

“Are you sure we should be taking that down?” Becky’s teeth chattered.

“It’s a blanket, Becky. You’re shivering.”

“Yes, well. I’d rather catch a cold than have you commit a crime.”

Zane laughed at Beckett’s over cautiousness. “It’s just a blanket nailed to a wall.”

“In a historic cabin. In the middle of native New Zealand land. All the furniture has backstory.”

“We should give it more story.” Zane winked, then tugged the thick woolen weave, freeing the blanket of the last nail. “A happy story about being the blanket that stops my boyfriend”—fiancé?—“from getting hyperthermia.”

Beckett shook his head. “Hypo.”

He erupted into another shiver, and Zane curled the blanket around him. “What type of tapestry is this?”

“The warm type.” A card dangled from a tassel at Beckett’s shoulder. Zane leaned in, read the scripted font, and froze.

Beckett swung his head toward him, those beautiful blue eyes striking Zane with a flutter in the chest, just as they had when they met, and every time thereafter.

“What is it?” Beckett said.

Zane flashed a meek smile and feathered a kiss on Beckett’s frosty lips. “Getting arrested would be worth it. You’d fall ill without this wooly weave. You don’t have my Kiwi blood to be able to walk around naked and not feel the cold.”

Beckett’s disbelievingly impressed gaze flittered down Zane’s bare length. “Why would you get arrested?”

“According to this tassel, it’s a pretty old blanket? A few decades. Closer to a dozen, actually. This blanket should be in a freaking museum.”

Beckett groaned and started slipping it off.

Zane picked up the fallen corner and tucked it back around Beckett’s shoulders. “But not as much as it should be around you.”

He hunkered down next to his boyfriend and studied the warm reds and whites of the blanket. “Huh.”

Beckett managed to quirk his brow between shivers. “Huh?”

“This pattern,” Zane said. “It’s a giant fish hook.” He eyed his Taurus boyfriend and his stomach lurched giddily. Beckett Fisher had surely hooked Zane Penn and he never wanted to be set free. “This moment feels strange. Like it’s meant to be.”

“That strangeness you are feeling?” Beckett whispered. “It’s called numbness.”

Zane laughed, scoring a hand through his damp hair. “I’m sorry about the bridge thing.”

Beckett opened the blanket and wrapped it around Zane, sidling over the rug until their sides met, Beckett’s arm and hip cold against Zane’s warm skin. Now there was an idea to keep his man warm. Zane scooched in front of Beckett, cushioning Beckett’s front with warmth while the blanket cloaked his back. Zane steered Beckett’s arms around his chest.

Beckett shivered and pressed a tickling kiss on Zane’s shoulder.

“It was supposed to be romantic,” Zane said, sighing.

“Nothing says romance like being jumped on a semi-collapsed swing bridge over a dirty creek in the middle of the night.”

“It was a full moon. I thought you were into it.”

A chuckle skittered over his shoulder blade. “I was into it. Until—”

“We toppled into the creek?”

“Before that, when—”

“I accidentally kicked our pack over the edge?”

“Before that.” Beckett clamped his front flush against Zane’s back and Zane willed all his warmth into Beckett’s body.

“Before that?” Zane warmed Beckett’s thighs that were clenched around his. “It was totally hot before that.”

“Hmm. Hot. Not the word I’d currently use for it.”

Oh. Zane stared at his feet poking out from the tapestry-blanket. Embarrassment burned through him.

Beckett rested his forehead against Zane’s nape. “You’ve gone quiet.”

Zane shrugged. He tried to laugh but it sounded panicked. “So . . . you weren’t into trying, um, that with me?”

Beckett’s arms stiffened around him. His fingers curled around Zane’s upper arms, the blanket pooling to their waists. “Turn around, Zane.”

Zane turned onto his knees and kept his gaze cast at Beckett’s smooth, hard chest.

A finger curved under his chin and steered his face up. Beckett sized-up Zane’s expression, his gaze soft, curious, and cautiously desiring. “I refuse to top you for your first time on a semi-collapsed swing bridge over a dirty creek in the middle of the night.”

Zane tried to drop his gaze, but Beckett pinched his chin in place. He leaned in until his lips hovered at Zane’s. “But I’m definitely into the idea.”

Zane shivered, and it had zero to do with the cold. “Now I’m all nerves and hypo-exhilaration.”


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