“Great! I got all the classes I wanted.” A car door slammed in the background. “Shit, I feel so out of shape. Had to park at the very back of the parking lot and walk across campus to get to the registration building. Being out of school has killed my workouts.”
“You could always come over and get a good workout in with me,” I suggested, standing from the couch and stretching.
“Why, Mr. Cross, I should have you know I’m a perfect gentleman,” Cason said with mock innocence.
“Uh-huh.” I walked down the hall to the kitchen. “Tell that to the memory I have of you telling me to fuck your cock just like that.”
Cason laughed. “Okay, you have me there. What are you up to?”
“Being lazy,” I answered, opening the refrigerator and looking inside. “I was watching Netflix, and now I’m about to cook.”
“What show were you watching?”
“The documentary about Ted Bundy.”
“Damn, I want to watch that one,” Cason said. It sounded like he was driving now. “Is it good?”
“Come over and find out,” I said without a second thought. “I’ll make us lunch.”
“Is that an order?”
The smile in his voice made me smile in turn. “Perhaps. Now get over here.”
Cason arrived fifteen minutes later and parked in the garage. He wasn’t even in the house for ten seconds before I was pulling him to me and kissing him. He grinned and returned the kiss, grabbing a handful of my shirt. Over twenty-four hours since I’d tasted him, and I was like an addict finally getting their fix.
“Hungry?” I asked against his sweet lips.
“For dick, yes.”
“How about grilled chicken salad?”
“Less exciting,” Cason said. “But it’ll do.”
Grabbing his hand, I led him into the kitchen and started putting together the salads. I had grilled the chicken on my George Foreman grill before he got there, so I just had to cut it up and toss together the salad.
“Do you like tomatoes?” I asked, cutting up one to put in mine.
“Yep,” he answered from behind me. “I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
“Typical teenage boy response.”
“Well, when you grow up without a whole lot, you learn to accept whatever you can get,” he said, and the tone of his voice made me stop slicing and turn to look at him. “Sorry. Too serious?”
“Not at all,” I said, focusing back on the cutting board. “I don’t mind if we talk.”
“Wasn’t that one of your rules, though?” Cason asked. “Don’t bring feelings into it?”
“Romantic feelings,” I corrected, grabbing the sliced tomato and distributing it between our two bowls of lettuce. “That doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly. I want you to think of me as a confidant. Someone you can come to if you have questions or just need a listening ear.”
Because if I wasn’t that person for Cason, who would be? He couldn’t talk to Ryan, and he didn’t have a good relationship with his mother.
“You’re the only person I have right now, Emery. The one person I can talk to.”
I hadn’t forgotten his words, and damn if I’d turn him away when he needed me. I was too involved now. Too wrapped up in him.
“You’ll be the Obi-Wan to my Anakin?”
I laughed. “Not quite. I won’t be showing you the ways of the Force, but I can show you fun things to do with your saber.”
Cason laughed so hard he snorted. The situation was completely ridiculous, but I found myself grinning so much my face started to hurt.
“Let’s eat,” I said, once the salads were ready.
“We’re eating in the living room?” Cason asked as I walked that way with my bowl.
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah, totally.” He followed me to the couch and sat a cushion away so he could sprawl out. “Your house is just so nice. And clean. I didn’t expect you to be okay with food leaving the kitchen.”
“Have you met my son?”
“Ryan’s room is scary for sure,” Cason said. “Pretty sure there’s some monster growing under his bed, formed from an old ham-and-cheese sandwich dating back to last summer.”
“I’d laugh if it wasn’t so true.” I shuddered at the thought.
“Do you have a problem with germs?”
“No.”
Cason took a bite of his salad and chewed in silence before continuing, “Are you OCD, then?”
“Not exactly,” I answered, embarrassed. I hadn’t known it was so obvious. “I just prefer things a certain way. Order is important in my life, as is structure. I suppose that is a form of OCD now that I say it out loud.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Cason said, looking at the TV as I went into the Netflix app and clicked on the Ted Bundy documentary. “I have a thing about my shoes and shirts. They have to be organized or it bugs me. Like T-shirts first, then dressier ones, then long sleeves. Hoodies in the back.”
He was trying to make me feel better. I appreciated it.
We stopped talking and ate as the show started. Even in the silence, I felt the connection sizzling between us. Like we were two magnets slowly being drawn together. By the time the second episode started, we were nearly on the same cushion.
Then he put a hand on my thigh.
“It’s cool that you do this shit for a living, and you like watching it too,” Cason said, turning his head to me. That close, I saw faint traces of orange in his brown eyes.
“I’m not a serial killer, Cason.”
He snorted. “No, I mean, you work in the criminal justice field.” He applied more pressure with his hand and moved it farther up my leg, his fingers so close to the part of me that wanted him most. “Is it hard to watch this stuff without thinking about methods the attorneys should’ve used? Not saying Bundy should’ve—”
I kissed him, turning my body in the process and pushing him to his back on the cushions. He tasted like ranch dressing, but I didn’t care. He was the best dressing I’d ever had, and I dipped my tongue into his mouth, gliding it across his.
Cason moaned, creating vibrations against my lips.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked.
“That tickled,” I said, before joining our lips again.
He tugged at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His belt jingled as I unbuckled it. He’d dressed nice for his appointment, but no matter how nice his clothes were, I wanted him out of them. They would look much better on the floor.
“To my room,” I said in between kisses. “Now.”
“I kinda like you bossing me around.”
“Good.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him up.
We kissed more and laughed as we made our way to my bedroom, bumping into the wall and hitting furniture. Kissing Cason was so freeing. We were taken with lust, but the mood was still light. There wasn’t any pressure to be something I wasn’t, and I hoped he felt the same.
Once on the bed, I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders as I kissed his neck. I wasted no time taking off his undershirt next, needing him bare-chested against me.
“God, Emery,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in my hair as I licked down his stomach. “I want you to fuck me.”
“I’ve wanted to be balls-deep in you ever since that night at the hotel,” I said, unzipping his pants and tugging them down past his hips.
The sight of him in his boxers, his muscled abdomen stretching as he arched his back, was too fucking sexy. I nipped at his V-line before tracing it with my tongue.
Cason whimpered and guided my head to his groin. He had no shame in letting me know what he wanted.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, gliding my lips across the waistband of his boxers and looking up at him. “Tell me.”
His brow furrowed and he licked his lips. His breathing had kicked up a notch. It took a certain comfortability in yourself to dirty talk, so I understood his hesitation. But then he said, “I want y
ou to suck me.”
Gladly.
I tugged down his boxers, loving how his cock sprang free, hard and ready. It was damn impressive in both length and girth—the best ride of my life. I hoped he still wanted to top after bottoming for the first time, because not having that beautiful dick inside me again would be a shame. But I’d accept his decision either way. Jay had a thing about not bottoming, and I had never pressed him on the matter.
“You want me to suck this hard cock?” I asked, wrapping my hand around the head before licking up the underside of it.
Cason trembled. “Fuck yeah.”
When I slid the tip into my mouth, he sucked in a breath and tightened the hold on my hair. I started a slow up-and-down glide as I massaged his balls with one hand. His thighs quaked as he stilled, not even breathing as he watched me take him deeper into my mouth. I licked down to his balls and suckled one.
“You like that?” I asked, glancing at him as he shut his eyes and groaned.
“Mhm.”
I was so hard I ached, but I put aside my needs and put all my focus on Cason. Touching him where he wanted me. Licking him in places that made him moan. Sucking his cock in a way that had him whimpering and fisting the sheet beneath him.
I yanked his pants the rest of the way down his legs and tossed them, along with his boxers, to the floor. He grinned at me, clearly knowing how bad I wanted him naked. After grabbing the lube from the drawer, I returned between his legs and dribbled a little on my finger. He watched me with an eager expression, lifting his hips a little in the air with the anticipation.
“You ever done this before?” I asked.
“A few times. Sometimes when I jack off, I’ll stick a finger up there.”
“Hard to do yourself, huh?”
He nodded, swallowing noisily.
I smoothed a slick finger across his hole, and he jumped a bit before settling his hips back in place and breathing deeply through his nose.
“Relax,” I said, dropping my head to his inner thigh and kissing him there. I scooted farther down and propped his ass up.
He gave me a questioning look as I lowered my head.
And then I licked the crack of his ass.
“Goddamn, Emery,” Cason gasped.
I licked him again, then again, never breaching him. Just getting him used to the feel of something being there. When I felt he was relaxed enough, I slowly pushed the tip of my finger inside.
Cason flashed a crooked smile, his lids heavy. “Gonna need more than that, Mr. Cross.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said, pushing in knuckle-deep before withdrawing and going back in deeper.
“Will sir work better?”
“Definitely not,” I said, my body temperature rising. It was hot, but not my thing. Cason and I were equals despite our age difference. I never wanted him to think otherwise.
Adding a second finger, I was rewarded with Cason’s whimpering moan. Raspy and filled with need. I kissed his inner thigh and worked him more with two fingers, smiling against his skin when he groaned.
“Ready for a third?” I asked.
He made a sound in his throat, a mix between a grunt and a moan, and lifted his ass off the bed. Begging for more.
After using more lube, I eased in a third finger. Cason gasped and fisted the sheet again, his mouth popping open as his eyes fell shut. With my other hand, I grabbed the base of his cock and brought him back to my mouth. As my breath touched the tip, his eyes flew back open and he stared down at me. Waiting.
Slowly, I slid the head between my lips. His eyes widened a fraction as I took him deeper, hitting the back of my throat. When I started moving my hand again, stretching his ass with three fingers while sucking his cock, he whimpered and returned his grip to my hair.
His taste. His moans. All of it had me amped up and ready to go. I considered myself patient, but that patience was wearing thin. I had had Cason multiple times, but never in the way I craved him the most.
“I’m gonna come,” he panted, holding my head in place. The firm muscles beneath his soft skin constricted as he tensed.
I pulled off his dick and withdrew my fingers.
“Fuck!” Cason whined, slapping his hands to his face and breathing heavy. His cock bobbed in front of my face, swollen and leaking precum.
“Can’t have you finishing so early.”
His brown eyes flickered to me. “You’re such a psychopath. You’re smiling at my misery.”
“Pretty sure that makes me a sadist.”
“I honestly don’t care what the hell you are, Emery, just put on a rubber and fuck me already.”
“Uh-oh.” I kissed his stomach as I traveled back up his muscled body. When I was facing him, I said, “Looks like someone gets feisty when he’s horny.”
Cason snatched my bottom lip between his teeth, slapping his hands on my sides and tugging me forward. We kissed then, hard and sloppy. Both of us desperate for more. My plan to tease the hell out of him and make him beg for my cock flew out the window.
I grabbed a condom from the drawer, and he watched me open it.
“Nervous?” I asked, before shoving down my pants and rolling it on.
“No,” he answered, tracing my shoulder with his finger. “I know it’ll probably hurt a little, but I trust you.”
“I’m hoping it won’t hurt much at all,” I said, sitting back on my knees as I grabbed the lube. “You took three of my fingers like a pro.”
Cason chuckled and glanced at my crotch. “Bring it on.”
I lubed up my cock and got between his legs, kissing him as I positioned the tip at his entrance. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face against my neck. My heart thumped hard, echoing the beating of his. We’d fucked several times, but this was different for us. Like our first time all over again.
Even though I’d taken my time prepping him, I still went slow as I pushed into him. Good. He’s relaxed.
Cason inhaled through his nose and exhaled, running his lips along my neck.
“That okay?” I asked, stilling my movements.
He nodded and held me tighter.
So I went deeper. Once the tip of my cock broke past the ring of muscle and his ass pulled me in farther, I groaned, as did he. Goddamn, he was tight. And so perfect.
“Emery,” he said on a moan, digging his nails into my lower back. “You feel so fucking good.”
I pulled back a little before going in deeper, then back and forward again. Rocking into him nice and slow. I’d heard Cason’s sex moans before, but these were new. And goddamn if they didn’t get my motor racing even more, propelling me forward over and over, fucking him just like he begged me to.
“Harder,” he said. “Shit. Right there.”
He was already close, and I hadn’t even touched his dick yet. But me nudging his prostate had him clinging onto me and murmuring incoherently. The only words I understood were fuck and Jesus. Which normally shouldn’t ever be in the same sentence, but sex did that to people. Correction: great sex did that to people.
And it was fucking amazing.
I adjusted my position, sitting up on my knees as I continued thrusting into his tight ass. He watched me through heavy lids, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. As I took hold of his cock and gave him a long pull, he arched his back and moaned, not taking those beautiful eyes off me.
The moment he started to shudder and his ass clenched around me, I grabbed his hips with both hands and pounded into him faster. Ribbons of white shot from his cock and landed on his sexy stomach as he whimpered through his orgasm.
“Shit,” I hissed, my rhythm faltering as pressure built in my balls. Just a few more thrusts and—holy fuck, I was coming so hard I saw spots in my vision. “God, Cason.”
“Mm.” Cason tugged me harder into him. “Let me milk your cock.”
I bit the top of his shoulder as my orgasm drew on, and he sucked my earlobe—a damn weak spot of mine he’d found shortly after we’d started fuc
king over a week ago.
Once the waves of pleasure had receded, I collapsed on him and pressed my face to his throat, trying to catch my breath. He glided his fingers through my hair and worked on his breathing too. Our sweaty chests stuck together, and the semen on his stomach would dry and probably cement us together if we didn’t get up and wash up. But I was too spent to move at the moment.
“How was it?” I asked.
The light laugh that left him was a bit hoarse. “You really need to ask? I came so hard I traveled to a different dimension.”
“Time travel orgasms.” My softening dick slipped from his ass, and I had enough strength to roll to the side. “I should add that to my profile.”
“On the hookup app?” Cason faced me. “I didn’t know you were still checking it.”
“I’m not,” I said, curious why a sudden shadow passed over his face at the mention of it. “Are you?”
“No.” He looked away. “Been with you almost every day. Didn’t see a point.”
“Same.”
I felt there was more neither of us were saying. Yes, we’d spent every night, apart from one, together since we’d started hooking up. But it wasn’t lack of time that had me uninterested in talking to other guys.
I didn’t want any of them.
Did Cason feel the same about me?
I nearly asked him, but I stopped myself right as I opened my mouth. A question like that wasn’t fling protocol. Because it might lead to something more, and that would be breaking my own rules.
“I’m going to clean up,” I said, sitting up and getting out of bed.
He stayed silent as I went into the bathroom and started a shower. Once the water was warm, I stepped inside the tub and closed the curtain. The heat and steam helped relax the muscles in my neck that had tensed back up at the realization that I might be feeling more for Cason. That I might not want just a summer with him.
As I stood beneath the stream of water, one hand on the wall and hanging my head, I heard the curtain rustle, and a small rush of cool air hit my skin as it opened. Cason closed it and put his arms around me from behind, kissing the center of my back.
“A shower sounded too good to ignore,” he murmured against my skin.
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