Date: 2019-07-16T18:30:00+00:00
Keywords: MM Romance; Contemporary; BDSM; Erotica; LGBTQ+
Description: I lucked into the perfect roommate this year: pretty to look at, eager to please, happy to do any and every damn thing I want, sometimes even before I know I want it. And even though I'm here on a football scholarship, not some kind of brainiac academic one like he is, I'm still smart enough to know I shouldn't mess with a good thing. It's why I gave myself one rule: hands off pretty little Sean Cabot. I mean, shouldn't be too hard, right? There are plenty of other willing twinks available to keep me happy this year, so there's no need to obsess about the only one I told myself I can't touch..

CAN'T TOUCH

CHARA CROFT

Can’t Touch

Copyright © 2019 by Chara Croft

Kindle Edition

Cover Design by the author

Editing by Mystique Editing

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission
of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used
fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is
entirely coincidental.

The author has asserted her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this
book. The author can be reached at CharaCroftWrites@gmail.com

This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. It contains sex acts between consenting adults, and all characters
represented within are eighteen years of age or older. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

T R I GGE R W A R NI NG

Psst! Flip straight to Chapter One if you'd rather avoid the spoiler!

No?

Still want to see the trigger warning?

Ok. Here it is:

TRIGGER WARNING: Chapter Two will smack you with some descriptive off-screen physical
abuse that's guaranteed to make you hate on Sean's mama. (Go ahead. She deserves it, the fucking
bitch.)

DISCLAIMER: I’m a storyteller, not a mental health counselor. Nothing in these pages is intended to
portray a healthy response to abuse or a balanced romantic relationship. In fact, the whole reason I
write under this pen name is to go a little OTT with un balanced relationships. If that’s your jam and
the trigger warning hasn’t fazed you, then flip the page and come meet my boys…

Mwah!

Chara

CONTENTS

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

Sneak Peek

Also by Chara Croft

About the Author

1

T Y S ON

BEING BACK on campus a week after spring break shouldn’t have been a relief, but not gonna lie, I’d
fucked so many twinks over the break that my dick had felt raw when I’d come home. And huh…

“home.” If you’d asked me two years ago, living in the dorms would never have earned that label, but
first off, campus housing options got better with seniority and I was a junior now—meaning I finally
qualified for something that was more like a small two-bedroom apartment than the postage stamp
with two twin beds I’d been stuck in during my freshman and sophomore years—and secondly,
well… this year, I had Sean.

My cock twitched, and I palmed myself through my basketball shorts, pleased to find that my junk
seemed to be fully recovered after the week of overindulging down in Cancun. Although hell, even
rubbed raw and with my balls drained dry, my lesser head always seemed to perk up at the thought of
the adorable little slice of perfection who I’d been blessed/cursed with as a roommate this year.

I flicked a button on the remote, bored with ESPN and hoping the cable package Sean’s parents
had sprung for had something better to offer, and pressed down on my dick with the heel of my other
hand as the thought of him started chubbing me up even more. It felt good enough that for a hot second

I considered ditching TV for the night and trying my luck with Grindr instead.

I must have made some kind of sound or something, because all of a sudden Sean popped his head
out of the little kitchen where he’d been fucking around for the last twenty minutes and blinked those
big baby blues at me.

“Did you… did you need something, Tyson?” he asked in that eager, breathless little voice of his
that always made me want to do such dirty things to him. “Are you still hungry? I could reheat that
chicken breast. Or I could get you a drink? I picked up some more of that vitamin water you like.”

“I’m good,” I said, not bothering to take my hand off my dick since I knew the angle of the couch
would hide my bulge from him as long as he stayed hovering in the doorway like that. Then I winked,
adding a reminder I knew damn well he’d keep right on ignoring. “Not your job to take care of my
needs, sweetheart.”

Although fuck if I wouldn’t like him to.

My cock jerked against my palm, agreeing wholeheartedly. Down, boy.

Sean never seemed to pick up on any of my I-want-to-do-you innuendoes, but he blushed scarlet at
the endearment, just like I’d known he would. It was sexy as fuck when he did that, so I’d been
slipping them into conversation more and more freely lately even though I knew it wouldn’t amount to
jack shit.

As it shouldn’t, because while there would always be another twink to fuck, I knew that lucking
into a roommate who had some kind of fetish about pleasing me was a once-in-a-lifetime miracle.

And messing up the world’s most perfect living arrangement? Yeah, no. No matter how much my dick
begged me to test out just how straight shy little Sean really was, I wasn’t going to risk fucking things
up just so I could finally find out whether his ass would fit my dick as perfectly as I suspected it
would.

He ducked back into the kitchen, mumbling something about finishing the dishes, and I sighed,
letting my head fall against the back of the couch. I wanted him bad, but that was nothing new, so
along with another iteration of the don’t-go-there pep talk, I gave my cock a half-hearted stroke and
flicked the button on the remote again, landing on some show with dramatic music and shit blowing
up.

Mindless and perfect.

I left my hand in my lap but didn’t bother giving my cock any more attention. It was obviously
ready to get back into action after the post-spring-break breather I’d been taking, but for real, heading
out to find a fast fuck just felt like too goddamn much work after the day I’d had. Two pop quizzes and
a brutal workout a buddy of mine had insisted on torturing us both with after he’d caught his girl
cheating… I was worn out just thinking about it. Besides, home—a.k.a. the cozy little haven Sean had
turned our dorm into—was so damn comfortable, not even the idea of getting off could get me excited
to leave now that I’d grabbed a shower and some food and was all settled in on the couch.

Food Sean had had ready and waiting for me when I’d gotten back from the gym.

I grinned, flicking to some true crime show when the explosions started to get boring. There was
no question that Sean was hands-down the world’s best roommate. He spoiled the shit out of me,
treating me like a king and jumping to do my bidding even before I knew what I wanted half the time.

He was so damn attentive, sweet without being annoying, that it had taken me awhile to get it through
my head that he really was straight.

Flash back to move-in day:

“Hey sweetheart, I’m Tyson Graham, gay as fuck and all yours for the duration. Mind if I take
the room at the end of the hall? Wouldn’t want my guests to disturb you since they tend to get loud
when I fuck them.”

When I’d winked, he’d blinked up at me with those big eyes and a mouth that dropped open into a
perfect “O”—exactly the right size and shape to fit around my cock—and along with the petal-pink
blush that had stained his cheeks, it had been all I could do not to bend him over the overstuffed couch
he’d already replaced the threadbare campus-provided furnishings with and see just how loud I could
get him to be for me.

Yeah, that’s me. Not much for the art of subtle. I’d figured getting it all out on day one would
either rip the Band-Aid off any potential personality conflicts with my new roomie or else set up
realistic expectations to avoid those conflicts later. Instead of running scared or ripping me a new
one, though—or dropping to his knees and letting me test out my theory about his mouth—sweet little

Sean had just stammered out something about how he’d never lived with anyone before, didn’t know
any gay people but wouldn’t disturb my guests—blush, blush—and would be-the-best-roommate-
ever-he-promised before darting into his room and hiding out for the rest of the day.

I’d say that I wasn’t sure whose dick he’d had to suck to land in upperclassman housing for his
freshman year, except that even without him tossing that “I don’t know any gay people” line into his
introduction, it had become obvious pretty quickly that he was too damn straight to have ever so much
as seen a dick other than his own, much less gotten his wet dream of a mouth on one.

How could I tell? Well, in addition to my own predilection for walking around in as few clothes
as possible, I made sure to keep up a steady stream of man-candy coming and going at all times, and
not once had I seen Sean’s eyes stray or any telltale bulge-action happening in his pants. And yeah, I’d
looked for it. Thought about it way too damn much, too… including when I was balls-deep in some
other little blond twink. Generally one I’d picked up because of how much he reminded me of my all-
time favorite roommate.

Sean never brought anyone home himself and spent too much time here studying to be dating
anyone on the side. Hell, I wasn’t even sure the kid ever jerked off… another thing I’d kept my eyes
and ears open for.

Straight or not, the way he was always so quick to try and make me happy, I figured I could
probably get him to bend over for me and like it if I ever pushed the issue, but I’d decided on a strict
hands-off policy as soon as I’d realized what a good thing I had going with having scored him for a
roommate. Young and innocent and sheltered and eager to please… the thing was that I liked the kid, a
bit too much to make him just another notch on my bedpost. Well, that and the fact that I was also too
damn selfish to want to fuck with how smooth our home life was, no matter how much my dick tried
to convince me it would be worth it.

Hadn’t stopped me from slipping a little lately, though. Calling him sweetheart and baby and
sugar, just to see him blush. Accidentally-on-purpose rubbing up against him to double- and triple-
check my theory about whether or not it might turn him on. Heaping on the praise for all the sweet-as-
shit things he did for me every day, since that always got me more blushes plus a kind of dazed, happy
look that almost made him look well-fucked.

And… shit. I was fully hard now just from thinking about it. What I needed to do, once and for all,
was stop fucking tempting myself with what I’d already decided not to go for. I flipped back to the
show with the explosions, spreading my legs wide to give my package some room and draping both
arms over the back of the couch to make sure I kept my hands off it until it calmed the fuck down and
forgot about Sean and his temptation of a mouth and perfect, heart-shaped little ass.

Didn’t help that he chose that moment to wrap up whatever he’d been fussing with in the kitchen
and walk right past me, that sweet little ass I’d just decided not to think about anymore swaying just
enough to make me groan.

“Did you say something, Tyson?” he asked, whirling to face me. All big eyes and hopeful, please-
tell-me-what-I-can-do-for-you smile.

I cleared my throat, all too aware of the steel pole lying flush against my thigh. “Got homework?”

I asked, my voice sounding like gravel anyway.

Hands off, Tyson. And no, he did not just sneak a peek at my junk, did he? Had to be my wishful
thinking.

“Yeah,” Sean said, breathing the word out on a sigh as his shoulders slumped a little. “Um, I
always have homework.”

My lip quirked up. Little overachiever. He was so damn cute and sincere. Taking classes way
above my pay grade even though he was two years behind me. I knew he was here on all sorts of
scholarships—academic ones instead of an athletic one, like me—and that his parents were
overbearing assholes with high expectations. Out-of-state parents, thank fuck. It made me grit my teeth
every time I heard him on the phone with them, and even if I only caught one side of those
conversations, I could guaran-damn-tee you that they didn’t appreciate their boy like they should. It
wasn’t just me he liked to please. They said jump and he said how high… then made sure to go above
and beyond what they wanted. Not that it ever seemed to earn him anything but a lecture on how he
could have done even more, based on what I’d overheard.

Fuckers.

“I… I guess I’ll go get to it,” Sean said, his cheeks pinking up as he ducked his head and prepared
to disappear for the night. “Good ni—”

“Hold up,” I said, lurching forward before my brain could kick in with anything resembling good
sense. I snagged his wrist and tugged him toward me, not hating the way he gave a pretty little gasp
and practically fell in my lap at all.

He righted himself, regaining his balance, but didn’t say a word about the way I was still holding
onto him.

Good boy.

My cock flexed.

Wait, no. If I let myself like his oh-so-sweetly-submissive responsiveness too much, I was going
to get myself in real trouble. And still restraining him like this? Definitely more temptation than I
could handle.

I made myself let go of his wrist and lean back in my I-don’t-give-a-fuck pose again.

“Did you need something?” he asked, worrying that pretty lower lip of his.

“You’re always studying. Why don’t you take the night off for once, baby?” I said, patting the tiny
slice of couch I wasn’t occupying. “Watch some TV with me.”

“Oh,” he said, eyes going wide as they darted between me and the shit blowing up on the big-ass
flat screen mounted on the wall.

The kid came from money. His parents had decked this place out, and I half-suspected that it was
some sort of power play to show Sean that even if he’d earned his own way—those academic
scholarships were no joke—they were still the ones calling the shots.

“Um, what are you watching?” Sean asked, shocking the shit out of me.

Unlike me, he never just vegged in front of the TV, and even if he had been so inclined—I’d have
put money on the current show not being his jam. Not that I had a single clue what the show was, and I
highly doubted Sean did either, but he was still looking at it like joining me might be a good idea after
all… and yeah, my cock liked that a lot.

“Sit,” I said instead of answering his question.

Mistake. At least it was if I was trying to keep my cock under control. Because the thing was, I’d
noticed a while ago how Sean responded to orders. Not gonna say I was an asshole about it, but I
guess I’d always been a bit of a bossy fucker, and not gonna lie, the way he was so instantly,
unquestioningly obedient when I used a certain tone of voice… damn. It went to my head. Both of
them.

And sure enough, Sean sat just because I’d told him to, legs folding instantly and that delectable
little ass of his hitting the couch cushion next to me almost before the word had fully left my mouth.

“Okay,” he breathed out, eyes glued to the screen as he twisted his hands together in his lap.

My cock fucking throbbed and I reached down to adjust myself, almost certain that I saw Sean
tracking the move out of the corner of his eye this time.

And entirely certain I heard a hitch in his breath like he liked it.

I grinned, then rubbed a hand over my face to hide it. Here I was, playing with fire even though I
knew better, but damn if the heat didn’t draw me in like a moth to a flame.

“You want me to switch it to something else?” I asked, giving exactly zero shits about what was
onscreen but curious as hell about what he’d say. It would shock the hell out of me if he actually
expressed an opinion different than mine. Besides, far as I knew, he never wasted time on mindless
entertainment anyway and probably didn’t have an opinion.

Actually, to be honest, even though we’d lived together for what, eight… nine months now? I
really had no idea what my cute little roomie did for entertainment. If someone had described Sean to
me, I would have said he sounded boring as fuck. He was the perfect son, perfect student, perfect
roommate. His weeknight routine of cooking for the both of us, doing his homework, showering way
too fucking quick to be jerking off, then going to bed all by his lonesome never deviated. Well, except
for study group nights, but I mean, come on. That was just more of the same.

But the reality? Not boring at all.

Maybe it was just because I’d told myself I couldn’t have him, or maybe it was that seductively
sweet but totally oblivious anything-for-you-Tyson attitude of his, but for whatever reason, I’d never
been as unrelentingly interested in anyone in my life… something my cock was doing its damndest to
make sure I didn’t forget at the moment.

“We can watch whatever you want, Tyson,” Sean said, sitting next to me as stiff and still as a
statue, like I’d given him an assignment and he was determined to do it right.

And that eager, breathy voice saying “whatever you want, Tyson”? Yeah, certain parts of me
thought that was very right.

Too right, if I was going to keep up with my hands-off policy.

Just right, according to my now locked-and-loaded cock.

I hadn’t bothered to make room for Sean when he squeezed in next to me since I was not at all
opposed to some forced proximity, and with my 6’4” frame spread out in the exact center of the
couch, that meant I’d left him just enough room to wedge himself between the arm of the couch and my
thigh.

That’s right, I now had the sweet little body I’d been so good about keeping my hands off up until
now pressed right up against my thigh.

I adjusted my dick again—loose basketball shorts or not, I was so primed just from sitting next to
him that shit was starting to get uncomfortable—and this time, I didn’t even bother trying to be subtle.

And… yep. No mistaking it. Sean’s eyes darted away from the screen for a split second to watch and

—fuck me sideways—the tip of his little pink tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took in just how
happy to see him I was.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Was I finally managing to turn the kid on?

I started to grin, then realized what a fucking idiot I was being. I’d gone two thirds of the school
year without fucking this up, and now just because I was horny, I was risking spoiling my perfect
living situation?

I sat up, pulling my arm off the back of the couch where it had been draped behind him and giving
him a little space. I hated to do it, but hands off, right? That was the smart course to take, just like I’d
been telling myself since day one.

Time to do the smart thing.

“You know you don’t have to watch this shit just because I asked you to, swee—uh, Sean,” I made
myself say, impressing myself with my ability to ignore my raging hard-on in favor of the kind of
mature decision-making skills I normally gave zero fucks about. “You should go do your homework.”

He didn’t move for a full minute, then his shoulders slumped, just the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he said,
so softly I could barely hear it. “If you don’t want me—”

“I do,” I blurted out, my dick overriding all those mature skills I’d just been giving myself a
mental pat on the back for.

Sean’s head whipped around to face me, his eyes going wide.

So fucking pretty.

Ignore them.

I forced a smile. “I just know how dedicated you are to your studies, baby. You shouldn’t neglect
that shit just because I want you to... uh, watch TV with me.”

I wanted a hell of a lot more than that, but even if I’d let slip with another “baby,” at least I’d
caught myself before I admitted anything else.

Sean blushed, right on schedule. Then he yanked the rug out from under all my good intentions:

“But I like doing what you want, Tyson.”

“Oh, damn,” I said, choking on a laugh as I scrubbed a hand over my face and tried to pretend that
little confession hadn’t just made my cock sing. “Uh, you shouldn’t say stuff like that, Sean.”

He blinked those big baby blues at me, nibbling on his lip. “I shouldn’t?” he finally asked, turning
to angle his body toward me on the couch even though I’m pretty sure he didn’t realize what he was
doing. “But why not? It’s true.”

I laughed again, because god damn. If it were anyone else, I’d think he was teasing me on purpose,
but this was Sean. Innocent as fuck and too damn sweet to have a clue what he was doing to me.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I said, tugging his swollen lip out from between his teeth
because I was a glutton for punishment.

So fucking soft and wet. I wanted it.

“What?” Sean whispered, looking confused.

I sighed. I was a bad person, and why I’d been blessed and tortured with someone like him in my
life, I would never know. I did know I didn’t want to fuck up our… friendship? Roommate-ship?

Whatever it was. Didn’t want him to stop looking at me in that almost worshipful way he had. Didn’t
want to hurt him.

“Never mind, sweetheart,” I said, keeping all those things in mind. I made myself stop brushing
my fingers over his lips and grabbed the remote, clicking off the TV. “Let’s just head to bed, okay?”

(Shut up, cock.) “Er, I mean, you go do your homework, I’m gonna—”

I was about to say “head out,” because no, Grindr wasn’t my first choice tonight, but yes, I was
pretty sure at this point that finding someone to fuck—someone else to fuck—was the only thing that
was going to save me from doing something supremely stupid. But before I could finish my sentence,
sweet little Sean interrupted me.

Sean never interrupted me.

“You’re tired?” he asked, sounding like I’d just told him Christmas was canceled.

And then he pouted.

Fuck me. It was the pout that made me stupid, I swear it. That mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off
it. Had just been fucking touching it, breaking a rule I’d set for myself months ago. And clearly, those
transgressions were enough to short-circuit my brain.

“Fuck no,” I said, grinding the heel of my hand against my raging dick. I laughed a little
explosively, because it was that or start panting like a porn star. “Jesus, Sean. I’m not tired. I’m horny
as fuck, and I need to get the fuck out of here to—”

Nope. I could not say the words “go find someone to fuck” with him looking at me like that, even
though we both knew damn well what a manwhore I normally was.

“—go jerk off,” is what I settled for.

Sean’s eyes went straight to my dick—which was now unapologetically tenting my shorts and had
one of my hands firmly wrapped around its fat length—and then darted back up to meet mine, going
even wider.

God, I was such an asshole. I cleared my throat. “I can turn the TV back on for you if you want to
watch some, though,” I said, which was so lame I had trouble believing it had even come out of my
mouth.

“Um, no thank you,” Sean said, blushing furiously and stealing another glance at my cock—which
made it fucking jerk in my hand like it was putting on a show, dammit—before looking away and
somehow managing to blush even darker.

His hands were fisted on his thighs, knuckles white.

He was holding so still he was practically quivering.

And… hello, Christmas morning. What was that? A present under the tree, just for me?

My boy was sporting some tent action of his own.

Had he ever actually said he was straight? I couldn’t remember and didn’t bother trying, because I
was too busy going from my daily baseline of horniness to too-fucking-turned-on-to-think.

“I don’t want to watch any TV,” he went on in a strained voice. “Not if… if you’re not going to,

Tyson.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. TV? He was still on the that subject? Thought he could get away with
just ignoring what he’d been staring at—a.k.a. me and my eight-inch salute—and the wood in his own
pants, too? Yeah, no. My good intentions were so far out the door they probably should have grabbed
their passport, and I gave my mouth free rein to fuck with him.

“Like I said, no TV for me. I’ve got a hot date with my right hand, sweetheart—” unless this night
ended up going the way it was starting to feel like it might, “—and I’m guessing you do, too.”

He swallowed hard, but didn’t look at me.

“You planning on actually getting to any of that homework once I let you go, baby? Or are you just
going to shut yourself in your room and rub one out?”

His breath gave that sexy little hitch again and he shook his head… still not looking at me.

I leaned in. Fuck, he smelled good. I wanted to lick him. Instead, I whispered, close enough to his
ear to watch him shiver, “Don’t lie. You’re gonna wrap your hand around that sweet little cock the
minute you’re alone, aren’t you? Jerk one out so fast I bet you get dizzy. Gonna think of me while you
do, baby? Because I’m sure as shit gonna—”

I snapped my mouth closed when Sean stiffened, and I don’t mean in a good way. The kid went
pale as a ghost in the blink of an eye, still not looking at me and biting that puffy lip of his again, so
hard it turned white.

“No,” he said after a moment, sounding like he was about to be sick.

Uh… what? Shit. I’d been so good around him for so long, and now it looked like I’d gone and
fucked everything up exactly the way I’d been so hell-bent on avoiding all year.

Before I could apologize or figure out how the hell to try and fix shit with him, he swallowed
again, Adam’s apple bobbing, and repeated it in a slightly stronger voice. “No. I don’t… d-d-don’t do
that.”

He legit looked like he was going to puke. Or cry. Or both.

“Hey,” I said, cupping his chin and turning his head toward me because I couldn’t handle the no-
eye-contact thing any longer. “Sorry, sweethear—uh, Sean. I got a little carried away teasing you, but

I’m an ass. Please don’t—shit.”

A single tear spilled out of his eye, rolling down his cheek before I could catch it.

“Baby, don’t,” I said, feeling lower than dirt. I’d made him cry. “I shouldn’t have said all that shit
to you. I got carried away. A little excited that you might actually bat for my team, but—”

“You want me to be gay?” he blurted out, sounding shocked as he interrupted me for the second
time in ever.

I blinked. “Um, yes?” I laughed, pointing down at my still-raging hard-on. “Clearly, I’d love it if
you were gay, but—God, I really am an asshole.”

His eyes were so wide I was worried he’d sprain them. I dropped my hand—yep, I’d still been
holding his face because touching him was fucking addictive and I apparently had zero ability to do
the right thing. Except, ugh. Now I was going to make myself.

I stood up, shoving my hands into my pockets. Hands off.

“Look, I’ll leave you alone,” I said, exercising epic amounts of maturity and self-restraint this
time by not pointing out how yeah, I was still going to go rub one out the minute I made it down the
hall to my room.

“Wait,” Sean said, surging to his feet and grabbing onto my arm. “I… I… I am.”

“What?” I asked, covering his hand to pin it against my skin because I was a horrible, horrible
person who couldn’t seem to stick to my own rules when it came to him.

“I’m g-g-gay,” Sean stuttered quietly, still pale as a ghost. “I am. I do, um, bat for your team.” He
looked down, not meeting my eyes. “I just... I’m not supposed to be, and my mother—my parents—
wouldn’t like it if they knew.” He glanced back up at me shyly. “I’ve… I’ve never told anyone
before.”

My hand tightened spasmodically over his, something warm and kind of beautiful piercing my
chest as I blinked down at him in shock. He’d come out to me? But then, as the way his voice had
shaken at the mention of his parents registered, something else—something fierce and ugly—ripped
through me, so hot and fast that I saw red for a moment.

I was biased—I already hadn’t liked those fuckers and all their rigid rules and expectations for
him—but now, the way he looked legit terrified... Jesus. Just from having caught one side of far too
many phone calls he’d taken from them since we’d moved in together, I knew he was right. No way
could he come out to his parents. They’d straight-up end him for not fitting into their narrow little
worldview, and that thought took me from a case of active dislike to full-on hating them in the blink of
an eye.

How fucking dare they not appreciate what a gift they had in their son?

But—did I mention I’m a selfish shit and a total led-by-my-dick manwhore?—so hot on the heels
of all that righteous haterade came a whole different feeling. Sean had just told me he was gay... and
he’d also just popped some serious wood for me. And that? Oh, hell yeah. I started to grin. I could
definitely work with that.

“What you said earlier, all that… that stuff about… what I was… was going to d-d-d-do tonight,”

Sean said, still pale as fuck but now peering up at me shyly. “I don’t ever do that.”

“Don’t ever do what?” I asked, feeling dumb for a sec. What was he trying to tell me?

He suddenly blushed hard, color flooding his pale cheeks so fast they almost glowed. “I don’t,
um, you know.” His eyes darted down to my cock for a split second and his free hand made a subtle,
up-and-down twitching motion that I would have missed if I hadn’t had every ounce of my attention on
him.

A twitching motion that was unmistakable.

Now I was the one wide-eyed with surprise. “You don’t jerk off?”

Sean nodded, looking mortified.

“Ever?” I asked, not quite comprehending how that would be possible.

He shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered, the hand that was still resting on my arm, still locked
under mine, trembling. “I can’t touch m-m-m-myself there.”

I opened my mouth, ready, able, and willing to offer a hundred and one dirty suggestions about
how I could help him with that, but then I beat them all back with a stick, because he looked all kinds
of messed up about that confession and I realized this was not the time to be an ass… even if I
definitely didn’t understand what the hell he meant. One dick. Two hands. I may not have been a math
major, but it seemed like a pretty straightforward equation to me. How could he not touch himself?

Fuck knows if I ever got the chance, I wouldn’t have that kind of restraint.

“What do you mean, Sean?” I asked, a weird jumble of feelings welling up inside me. One part
confused, one part still—fucking always, around him—turned the fuck on, and a whole bunch of other
parts that were starting to feel kinda worried about him, too, given how shaky he was getting. “You
can’t touch your dick, baby?”

With epic levels of self-restraint, I beat back my inner horndog so I could pay attention with the
confused-and-worried parts of me. Sean was starting to look wrecked, and not in the afterglow-of-
riding-my-cock way I’d imagined so many times. And I… well, yeah, I for damn sure wanted to offer
to touch that sure-to-be-as-pretty-as-the-rest-of-him dick of his for him, but more than that, I wanted
to get that look off his face. I wanted to figure out what the hell he was talking about and… and make
it better.

Jesus, was I getting soft? Sure, he was sweet and I liked him, but for all the guys I’d fucked—
spoiler: that would be a lot—I’d never felt this way about anyone before. Never wanted to make
things right for someone else without some kind of get-in-his-pants ulterior motive. Never needed to
make them right, the way I suddenly, desperately, needed to for Sean.

I let go of his hand and traced the tear track still visible on his cheek with my finger. “Tell me,
baby,” I said... not because I was still hoping to fuck him even though of course I’d always be down
for that if I ever let myself go there, but just because he was hurting and I had to find out how I could
fix it.

Then my hand froze. Hell, my whole fucking body froze, the truth slamming into me like a
goddamn three-hundred-pound tackle: I didn’t just like Sean, I didn’t just appreciate him as a too-
good-to-be-true roommate or daydream about fucking him because he was the prettiest goddamn thing

I’d ever seen, I actually liked him, like the kind of liking that could lead straight into the always-to-
be-avoided minefield of shit like… like relationships if I wasn’t careful.

How the fuck had that happened?

And even with the rubble still smoking from the detonation of the oh-shit-I’ve-got-feelings-for-
him bomb—and despite my own personal preference for all sex to be quick, dirty, and with
absolutely no strings or expectations attached—instead of hightailing it out the door and heading for
the closest anonymous Grindr hook-up I could find like I should have been doing, I still had my hand
on Sean’s face. I still needed to fix these tears he was leaking. Still had to figure out what the fuck
he’d been talking about with his “no touching” revelation, wipe that stricken look off his face, and
then find a way to get us back to good.

Maybe even to better than good.

“Tell me,” I repeated firmly, since he always responded so beautifully to being ordered around. I
could deal with all the feelings bullshit later, sometime when I could concentrate on navigating that
minefield without accidentally blowing something up. Right now, though, I’d just have to forge ahead,
because I had other priorities and they were all about making sure my boy was okay.

“Okay,” Sean whispered, just like I’d known he would. And fuck, I loved how much he loved to
do whatever I wanted, especially when I put some force behind the words like I just had.

He stared up at me with those big, wet eyes and sucked in a ragged breath as he braced himself
for whatever he was about to lay on me… and my cock twitched hard.

Yep, I’m a fucking dog. Even knowing he was hurting and with the threat of feelings to complicate
things between us now, once I sorted this crying shit out for him, all bets were off. A guy can only be
good for so long before he breaks, and when it came to the sweet little bundle of temptation known as
my roommate?

Oh, hell yeah.

Break me, baby. Break me hard.

Even if it came with a few explosions, I was done being hands off when it came to sweet little

Sean Cabot.

2

T Y S ON

“WHEN I WAS A KID,” Sean said, still staring up at me wide-eyed and trusting as he leaned his cheek
against my palm trustingly. “I mean, when I was maybe twelve? Thirteen? Um, back then, I used to.”

“You used to…?”

He blushed.

“Oh, right.” He used to jerk off, because of course he did—hello, thirteen-year-old boys
everywhere since the dawn of time.

“And one time… um, one time my m-m-m-mother came in and caught me,” he went on, his voice
shaking a little.

I nodded. Happened to the best of us.

Then I remembered what kind of dickwads his parents were, and I scowled.

“I was doing it to a picture of a boy,” Sean whispered, his blush disappearing as the blood all
drained out of his face again. “And when she saw, she… she screamed at me, and she…”

His mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.

“She what, baby?” I asked, a sick feeling growing in my stomach.

He looked down. “She made sure I didn’t again.”

“Tell me,” I snapped, that sick feeling getting bad.

Sean gave me a jerky little nod and did. “She slammed my… my hand in the door. All my fingers.

Over and over. And then… she... she… she handed me that picture again. It was in a magazine. She
told me she wanted to see if I still liked it. She made me… made me get myself hard again, and then
she did it again.”

His fingers flexed on my arm, and I almost vomited. “Your hand?”

Sean nodded, his eyes glazed over like he wasn’t really here. “She just kept doing it. All night.

My father was out of town and she wouldn’t stop, or let me stop. I don’t even know how I managed
to… to keep getting hard. It hurt so bad. Except that I had to. She didn’t give me any other choice. My
hand was so swollen by the time she finally quit that it looked like one of those gloves that boxers
wear, and three of my fingers were b-b-b-b-roken, and now I can’t. I can’t touch myself, Tyson. I just
can’t. I haven’t been able to, not since… since then.”

My dick had wilted the moment he’d first lost that pretty blush. But this… oh my God. I mean,

Jesus. His mom sounded way past a mere “fucking crazy” and all the way into the realm of the kind of
child abuse they locked people up for. Or at least, that they should lock them up for. I wasn’t really
sure how that shit worked, but I was plenty sure that those fuckers who called themselves Sean’s
parents didn’t deserve the title.

I didn’t know what to say.

Well, fuck, that wasn’t true. I actually had a lot to say, most of which involved variations of the F-
bomb and all of which needed to be said to two people who weren’t here, since I was just going to go
ahead and assume that Sean’s dad was as big of a fuckwad as the bitch who’d almost maimed him.

Because what, the guy hadn’t noticed his son’s fingers were broken when he came home?

But what to say to my boy? That I was at a loss about.

The silence stretched out between us as I tried to get the pissed-the-fuck-off part of me under
control enough to figure it out. Guess I took too long, though, because after a minute, Sean dropped his
hand off my arm, swallowing and looking away as he said, “I guess I’ll leave you alone so you can
go, um…”

His voice trailed off and he made a vague gesture in the general direction of my fully softened
dick, and like magic, that single moment of attention made it start to perk back up. Don’t get me
wrong, I still wanted to beat the bitch who’d hurt him, but apparently all my cock needed was to know
that Sean was thinking about it and it was more than ready to jump right back in the game no matter
how sickened I was by his story.

But yeah, no. My cock was just gonna have to ride the bench a little longer, at least until Sean and

I sorted some things out. Like first and foremost, did he seriously think we were done here?

I wrapped my hand around his arm as he started to turn away, still wearing a kicked-puppy look
on his face that made me want to slay some fucking dragons for him or something.

“Sean, seriously?” I said, turning him back around to face me. “You don’t actually think I’m gonna
let you tell me that kind of shit and then just… just let you go, do you?”

Or go take care of myself, the way he’d indicated? I mean, yeah, I was a selfish prick and pretty
sure we both knew it, but that? Just… no.

Sean’s eyes widened, the surprise on his face doing something weird to my insides. Who the fuck
had the boy had in his life up until now, that he actually thought the answer to my purely fucking
rhetorical question might actually be yes?

Didn’t matter. He had me now… and fuck the dangers of the minefield. I’d navigate that fucker
just fine, thank you very much.

I slid my hand down his arm, all the way to the hand that his mama had fucked with. His right one,

I figured, since I knew he was right-handed like me. I lifted it up, sort of petting it between mine, and
set him straight on the issue. “The answer’s no, baby. Also known as hell to the no. You’re not going
anywhere yet.”

“Um,” he said, his cheeks pinking up in exactly the way that always made me imagine doing dirty
things to him. “Okay.”

“I can’t believe she did that to you, sweetheart,” I said, trying to soften my own voice enough that
it didn’t sound like I was ready to go medieval on someone’s ass. “You know that’s straight-up abuse,
right? Please tell me someone CPS’d her ass for that shit.”

“No,” he said quietly. “But at least I don’t have to live there anymore. I like it a lot better here
with you.”

Oh… shit. That last part had come with one of those shy smiles of his that instantly activated my
cock. He was looking up at me through his lashes like some kind of debauch-the-innocents porn
teaser, sort of hopeful and uncertain and way too fucking trusting as he just laid himself bare for me
simply because I’d asked, and suddenly I knew exactly how the rest of the night was gonna go.

I stopped petting his hand and really looked at it, and yeah, I could see it now. Some scarring
around his knuckles. A slight bend to a couple of his fingers like maybe they hadn’t healed straight.

Fucking Christ. If I’d thought those tears earlier had been bad, this was fucking unbearable. I needed
to fix it the only way I knew how. And the best cure after a fall was to get back on the horse, right?

“So, now you can’t…?” I asked, flipping his hand over so it rested palm-up in mine and tracing
my finger down the center of it.

“No,” he whispered, shivering deliciously at my touch. “I’ve tried, but I just… I can’t… I can’t
touch my…” He swallowed, looking down at his hand where it rested in mine. “I feel sick if I try, and

I can’t, um, I can’t stay hard if I touch it.”

His fingers curled, closing loosely around mine, and why the fuck his confession suddenly had me
hard as a rock I didn’t want to think too hard about. Of course I hated what had happened to him—it
was sick and twisted and horrible—but the same part of me that got off on how much he liked to
please me around the house, how quick and eager he always was to jump up and obey my slightest
whim… yeah, that fucked-up part of me really liked the idea that he couldn’t get himself off. Liked
even more the idea that I could be the one to do it for him.

“So... you can’t touch your own dick,” I said, my voice pure sex because yeah, feelings or not, I
was still a fucking manwhore and couldn’t help it.

And not gonna lie, just saying it out loud like that made my cock swell even more, had it twitching
and jerking with excitement. It was like my own words were somehow stroking my dick. Jesus, I was
twisted, but no denying that even though the reason made me rage, the reality that he’d had to wait…

may have been frustrated and wanting this whole time… that his cock had gotten hard—hard for me—
and there was nothing he could do about it unless I helped him… yeah, that idea was hot as hell.

Sean’s eyes dropped down to look as if pulled to my cock by my thoughts alone, and fuck if I
didn’t thicken even more when he sucked in a short, shallow breath as he saw how hard I was. There
was no missing it. I was straight-up tenting my shorts like my happy stick wanted to bust right out and
get to him—which it most definitely did, for the record—and it leaped for joy when those pretty eyes
of his widened, his hand tightening in a quick spasm around the finger I was still using to tease the
center of his palm.

Moment of truth, was he gonna call me out on being a sick freak or beg for a taste of what I was
dying to give him?

Sean pulled his lower lip into his mouth, working it between his teeth for a moment, then looked
back up at me with big eyes, his expression practically begging me to tell him what he could do for
me… how he could please me… exactly what it would take for him to make me happy.

Oh, baby. I could do that. I could definitely do that.

“So it’s been years since you’ve come, sweetness? Years since that cock of yours has gotten the
kind of attention it needs?”

But… no?

His blush deepened and he shook his head.

“I do still… still… um,” he said in a whisper, stumbling over his words as if he couldn’t bring
himself to say anything dirty. “I… I have dreams at night sometimes. And they—” his voice dropped
to mere breath, eyes still locked on mine, “—they excite me, Tyson.”

My throat went dry. He fucking excited me. That little confession shouldn’t have sounded sexy at
all, just basic Puberty 101, but thinking about it, him right across the hall from me at night...

“So you come in your sleep, baby?” I asked, gravel in my throat.

“No,” he said, breath hitching. Then, “It’s after I wake up.”

...across the hall, maybe while I had my hand wrapped around my own dick, lying there hot and
bothered as he tried to be quiet. As he tried to be good. As he reached down to touch himself, maybe
thinking of me, and—

No. Wait. He couldn’t touch himself. So how did he…?

“Tell me what you do,” I growled, crowding close as I demanded an answer.

My cock was literally aching, and I couldn’t have kept distance between us if I’d tried. All this
word-porn was hot, but my days of keeping my hands off him were over, and when Sean’s back
bumped into the wall behind him, I just kept right on coming. I was looming over him and getting
allllllllllll up in his personal space, but he didn’t offer a word of protest. Of course he didn’t,
because he was fucking perfect. He just stood there and let me manhandle him like a boss, still
looking up at me like I was doing him a favor or something. Like he was a little bit grateful and a
whole lot amazed just to have my attention in the first place.

Fuck, he had no idea just how much of my attention he’d had since day one, did he?

“Tell me, baby,” I repeated, pinning him against the wall. “What do you do when you wake up
hard and horny and desperate to come?”

Sean swallowed, but answered me like the good boy I could tell he wanted to be for me. “If I
can’t… can’t get my… my… my thing to go down after I wake up,” he said, breath stuttering a little,

“then I… I...”

He trailed off, biting that pretty lip again with his face flushed a gorgeous shade of fuck-me pink.

His breath was coming hard and fast now, and when I ground against him, holding him in place right
where I wanted him, he didn’t resist me at all... which was such a fucking turn-on I almost came in my
shorts. If he actually thought he could get away with teasing me and not finishing that sentence,
though…

Although maybe—and at the thought, I had to let go of him and grab my dick just to keep it in
check—maybe, since I knew how eager he always was to let me boss him around, he was waiting for
me to make him finish it.

“Tell me what you do when you wake up,” I said as his eyes tracked my hand and stayed locked
on my package as I gripped it through my shorts.

I would have stroked it for his viewing pleasure, but that might have ended things a little too soon.

Sean leaned toward me like he couldn’t help himself, face fucking mesmerized, and I let go of my
dick to push him back against the wall again, this time just with my hand instead of a full-body press
since I honestly didn’t think my dick could take that kind of proximity at the moment without going off.

“You gonna make me keep repeating myself, sweetheart?” I asked, my balls fucking aching from
the hot way he was still staring at my junk. “What do you do if your cock stays hard after you wake up
from one of your dirty dreams, Sean?”

His eyes snapped up to mine, and he fucking whimpered. Hottest sound I’d ever heard.

He swallowed, then gave me what I wanted.

“I roll over onto my stomach,” he whispered, the confession obviously embarrassing him and
exciting him at the same time, “And then I… I use my bed, and I, um…”

He really did like it when I took charge, didn’t he? Loved doing what I told him. The more I
pushed him, the harder his cock got. So fucking pretty, the sight of that stiff little rod starting to thicken
before my eyes, pressing against the denim of his jeans and begging to be set free with every word he
forced himself to say for me in that breathless, innocent voice of his.

“You rub off on your mattress?” I guessed when his voice trailed off again. “Hump your own
bed?”

Sean blushed even harder, nodding. “I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes I… I have to.”

“You have to, huh? You get yourself that worked up thinking about dirty, sexy things?”

He nodded, practically panting as his hands started to twitch and flail a little like he didn’t quite
know what to do with them. I grabbed them, pulling them up over his head and locking both his wrists
in place against the wall.

“Dirty boy,” I purred, the hot blush that flooded his face again making me want to spin him around
and fuck him straight through the wall. “How often?” I pushed. “You do this every night?”

He shook his head. “N-n-no,” he stuttered, and why I found that nervous stutter of his hot I
couldn’t have explained. “Just… just sometimes,” he went on in a whisper. “Like when… when…”

I gripped his chin with my free hand, running my thumb over his lips, and his words disappeared
in a needy little gasp.

I grinned, hot and feral. I’d never gotten so physical with him before, but did he object to having
my hands on him? Did he have a problem with me restraining him like this? Holding him in place?

Taking charge? Hell, no. If I was reading my boy right—and I was just cocky enough to be pretty
damn sure I was—it was ramping him up just as much as it was doing to me.

I licked my lips, tempted beyond belief to taste his but wanting to hear just how dirty his nighttime
activities got first. “Tell me about the last time you got yourself off by fucking your mattress.”

His mouth opened and closed for a moment with no sound coming out, face so red it looked
combustible.

Sexy. As. Fuck.

“Come on now,” I prompted him. “You’re going to tell me what I want, aren’t you, baby? I know
you like being good for me.”

He nodded, head bobbing up and down like a puppet on a string. That’s right. Pretty little Sean
loved making me happy, didn’t he? And not gonna lie, it was a rush.

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, then said, “Um, it was… was last week. When you
walked out of the shower after you got back from the gym, and you were all wet and had that towel
wrapped around your hips…”

Both his breath and his words were coming faster and faster, and that bulge in his pants? Oh, hell
yeah. It was definitely growing.

Fuck. Mine was, too. He was telling me that he’d had to rub one out because of me.

I tightened my grip on his wrists and looked down at myself, running my free hand down my chest,
then back and forth over the hard ridges of the six-pack I’d worked my ass off for. I was cut and knew
it, and even though I kinda wished I was shirtless for my boy’s viewing pleasure right now, I knew he
could still see some good definition through the sleeveless tee I had on.

And sure enough, his eyes followed my hand hungrily.

“You’re saying you like this, Sean?” I asked, my voice dropping low and husky as I wondered
why I’d never caught him looking before. Guess he’d been trying to be good. Trying to keep his
interest to himself. Now that I knew, though… “You get all hot and bothered thinking of me? Watching
me? Dreaming about me, babe?”

He started nodding vigorously. “You’re… you’re so sexy, Tyson,” he whispered.

“And you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

Sean whimpered. Fucking whimpered. And a wet spot started to grow right over the tip of his
cock, soaking through the denim.

“Jesus,” I said, watching it darken and spread. His hard little cock must be leaking like a faucet.

“You’re ready to go, aren’t you? Just from… looking?”

I hadn’t even touched him. Not yet. Not anywhere that counted.

Sean’s fading blush deepened again. “I’m sorry, Tyson.”

I grinned. “Don’t be. It’s hot.” His eyes snapped up to meet mine again. “Do you want to do
something about it, pretty thing?”

His eyes widened, that pretty mouth of his falling open as short, panting breaths spilled out of it.

He shook his head. Then he nodded. Then he gave me one of those cock-hardening little whimpers
again, the ones that I swear to Jesus meant please, Tyson, just make me.

Oh, I could definitely work with that. “Do you want to try touching yourself again?” I asked.

“Right here, with me?”

Sean’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I can’t,” he said softly, trembling a little.

I leaned in, liking that answer more than I should. Although what I liked even more? The way that
trembling of his got even stronger as I dipped down to whisper in his ear… the way his breath started
to come a little faster… the way he pressed back against the tight hold I still had on his wrists, not
like he wanted to break free, but like he couldn’t help leaning into me, too.

“Do you want me to help you, baby?” I asked, my lips ghosting over his skin with the words.

He froze, not even breathing. Then he nodded, just the barest tilt of his chin.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Oh, God,” he gasped, sucking in air like he’d just remembered that breathing was a thing. Then
he nodded again—an eager, bobbing, oh-so-enthusiastic version this time. “Please, Tyson.”

I skimmed one hand down his chest, starting to learn the shape of him. “Can I take off your shirt,
sugar?”

His nodding never let up, eyes going wider.

I released his wrists and did it, tossing the shirt aside and then securing his hands above his head
again just because it was hot as fuck that he let me restrain him like that.

No, not “let” me… he liked it.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty,” I said, since it was nothing but the truth. He was all smooth, pale
skin over a compact, perfectly shaped body that looked like some kind of art sculpture or something.

I ran a hand over his slim chest, tweaking one of his nipples, and he made the most deliciously
decadent sound I’d ever heard, his head falling back to thump against the wall as that hard cock of his
visibly jerked in his pants. So fucking gorgeous. So fucking responsive. I did it again, going for the
other nipple, and his hips thrust forward, humping the air as his head snapped upright again, eyes
widened with desperation.

“Please,” he panted. “Please, Tyson. Please please please—”

“Easy,” I said, my own cock throbbing hard. “I’ll take care of you.”

“O-o-okay,” he stuttered, eyes still wide and trusting as they stayed locked on my face.

I left his hair-trigger nipples alone and skimmed my hand down his body, and the way his skin
quivered and jumped under my hand was a power trip and a half.

Jesus, he could probably come just from me teasing him like this… but me? Hate to say it, but it
might take even less for me at this point. If sweet little Sean was going to keep on reacting like I was
his own personal sex god… fuck. Not gonna lie, I could probably come just from touching him.

I slid my fingers under the waistband of his jeans and skimmed them back and forth across the taut
skin of his stomach. “I’m going to unzip your pants now, baby. You okay with that?”

He moaned, his eyelids dropping to half-mast.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” I said with a surge of satisfaction.

His head fell back, hips thrusting forward as he nodded.

Fucking Christ, he was a trip. I’d never had anyone so eager for it, and to say I’d done a lot of
fucking was probably the understatement of the century. The way I saw it, my cock was a high-
maintenance performance machine and it needed constant servicing. I’d never had a problem finding
willing twinks to take care of that for me, but Sean… damn. He was something else. Something
special.

I popped the button on his jeans one-handed, totally getting off on how readily he was letting me
keep his arms pinned over his head and do whatever the fuck I wanted. “Okay if I take these off for
you, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasped, pupils blowing wide as he stared at me. “Please, Tyson. You can… you can do
anything. You don’t have to ask.”

My cock pulsed, so hard that I almost thought I was going to embarrass myself.

“Jesus,” I hissed, holding onto my control by a thread. “You shouldn’t say something like that to a
guy.”

Sean blinked up at me. “I wouldn’t,” he said, sounding breathless and a little dazed. “Not to ‘a
guy,’ just to you, Tyson. You can do anything you want. I… I like it. I want you to. I just… I can’t
believe you really want to touch me like this.”

“Oh my God, you’re killing me,” I said, pulling him away from the wall and laying him out on the
couch instead. “Lift your hips for me,” I ordered, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth as I sank down
to the floor on my knees next to him. “How could I not want to touch you? You’re fucking beautiful.

So fucking sweet. Just look at you.”

He flushed pink, his eyes going almost dreamy as he did what I’d told him to and raised his hips
up for me. I pulled his jeans and briefs down as far as his thighs—wanting him naked but too
impatient to get him there—and… dammmmmmmmn. His cock was just as pretty as I’d suspected.

Compact and gorgeous, just like the rest of him, and dripping wet at the tip.

…wet for me.

“You’re incredible, Sean,” I muttered, dragging my hands over his sweet little body again as my
mouth started running away from me, spilling shit out that I had no control over… especially not when
all those hot little moans and desperate, needy gasps started tumbling out of his mouth. “Gonna make
it good for you too, sweetheart, just like you deserve. Gonna take care of you. Love living with you so
much, and this, touching you, it’s just… Jesus, it’s icing on the cake.”

He lay still, chest heaving, letting me do whatever the fuck I wanted. Being so good for me. Being
fucking perfect. His cock looked ready to explode, the head slick and wet and the shaft throbbing
before my eyes, and when I finally reached for it, a hot surge of pure possession made my balls draw
up tight.

No one but me had ever touched him before, I was sure of it. Not something I’d ever have thought

I gave a single solitary shit about with a guy, but with Sean?

“This is mine,” I growled, my hand closing around his shaft for the first time.

“Yes yes yes,” Sean practically sobbed, gripping my arm with both hands as he pushed that sweet
little cock up into my fist. And then, without any further warning, he was coming, pulsing in my hand.

Hot, creamy spurts spilling over my fist in waves as he clung onto me and gasped out his release. He
was fucking gorgeous.

“Oh fuck, baby,” I groaned, using his cum to stroke him through it, push him higher, watch in awe
as he shook and shattered in front of me and came completely undone just from the feel of my hand on
his cock.

It went on for-fucking- ever, and I can honestly say that even though I was rock hard and aching, I
wasn’t even thinking of getting myself off. Wasn’t thinking of a single damn thing except him. Because
getting Sean off? Oh, hell yeah. Fuck football or the pansy-ass major I’d picked just to satisfy my
athletic scholarship requirements. This was what I was here for.

“T-T-Tyson,” he finally stuttered, dragging his eyes open to stare up at me with something a lot
like wonder glowing in them.

“Right here,” I said, which felt like… like some kind of promise.

That should have scared me, right?

Right?

Jesus. What was he doing to me? Because I had to bite my fucking tongue—literally, not just a
figure of speech—to keep from making even more crazy promises, the kind that were one hundred
percent not me at all. But even worse? I was sorely tempted... not to flip him over and bury my cock
in his ass like I should have been about now, but to lean down and take that sweet mouth of his. That’s
right, just to kiss him.

Kissing had never really been my thing—as far as I’d always been concerned, I’d rather see a
pretty mouth like Sean’s put to use around my dick than wasted on some not-gonna-get-anyone-off
liplock—and kissing him the way I was suddenly dying to? Tenderly or some bullshit, like I wanted
to… to thank him? As if him coming for me had been a gift he’d given me, even though I’d been the
one to get him off?

That kind of kissing had “danger” written all over it in flashing, big-ass neon letters, definitely a
warning sign on the edge of R-word territory… but fuck if I didn’t almost slip up and do it anyway.

But then Sean’s eyes flicked down to my shorts, his breath catching as he bit onto that plush lower lip
of his and his cheeks flushing pink all over again.

Jesus, did he want my cock now?

He’d just come his brains out, but the look on his face—one part intimidated and about a million
parts yearning—got my priorities back on track. Enough with the needing-to-kiss-him bullshit. I was a
goddamn steel rod about to fucking burst. That was my priority.

I let go of his softening dick and surged to my feet, shoving my shorts down as I stood.

“Don’t move,” I growled, my cock slapping up against my stomach the minute I freed it and
leaving a long, slick smear across the dark happy trail leading down to my junk. “Don’t fucking move,

Sean,” I ordered again, wrapping my hand around it.

He nodded, flushed and beautiful and so damn compliant that I couldn’t help wanting to do dirty,
wicked things to him.

“Okay,” he promised, wide-eyed and innocent-looking as he lay there like a sweet, cum-covered
angel I couldn’t wait to defile. “I’ll be good for you, Tyson. I promise.”

“Oh, fuck,” I gritted out, those breathless words of his shooting through me like lightning. I hadn’t
managed more than three hard strokes, but I was done. “Fuck fuck fuck, baby . ”

My orgasm slammed through me like a goddamn freight train and the sight of my cum shooting out
all over his sweet little body unleashed some kind of primal caveman bullshit inside me that took all
my good sense and pounded it into oblivion. I didn’t even remember moving, but suddenly I was
stretched out on top of him, pinning him down and kissing the ever-loving shit out of him like I could
somehow use my mouth, my body, my sheer fucking determination to somehow… somehow…

Own him.

Claim him.

Keep him.

Which was almost as fucked up as the other shit about cherishing and protecting him that was
going through my mind. I was so fucked.

… and maybe after the sex-high wore off, I’d actually give enough shits to start worrying about
that.

3

S E A N

I WAS PRETTY sure that I had to be dreaming. I mean, other than the fact that it didn’t feel like a dream
with Tyson’s weight pinning me down, and how slippery and gooey it was between us from all the
mess, and how amazing his tongue felt in my mouth, and the fact that he was… he was…

Oh my God. Tyson Graham was actually kissing me.

An excited squeaking sound came out of me before I could stop it and Tyson pulled back a little,
his weight still keeping me secure but now just sort of staring down at me like he wasn’t quite sure
how we’d ended up here, either. He wasn’t smiling, just staring, and all the amazing floaty feelings

I’d just been swimming in disappeared in an instant.

I bit my lip, kind of wanting to cry. Was it over already? Had I done it wrong? I’d never been
kissed before, so maybe I’d messed it up?

I definitely shouldn’t have squeaked. Who did that?

I blinked fast to keep the stinging in my eyes from spilling over into actual tears, hoping I
wouldn’t end up looking like a needy little baby in front of him. I knew I shouldn’t be selfish since I’d
never even expected him to want me at all, but… well, even if it was greedy of me, I still wished I
could have had a little more of his attention. That he would have kept kissing me a little longer. That I
wouldn’t have messed it up and made him stop so soon.

It was greedy, but I couldn’t help it. No one had ever made me feel as good as Tyson did, and I
didn’t just mean when he’d touched my… when he’d made me… well, what we’d just done. That had
been amazing, but not just that. Living with Tyson this whole school year so far had been amazing. I
never had to worry about whether or not he’d be mad at me, because he always told me exactly what
to do and then was super nice to me when I did it.

Just thinking about making him happy made my heart start to race, and a warm feeling started to
curl in my belly despite knowing I hadn’t done the kissing part very well. Maybe I could find a way to
make it up to him?

“You’re overthinking, sweetness,” Tyson said, pushing my hair back off my forehead as he kept
staring down at me. “Quit it.”

“Okay,” I said, the word popping out before I even had time to register what he’d said. It didn’t
really matter what it was, though. Even if he was bored with kissing me already, it would still feel
good to do whatever it was he wanted. And right now, he wanted me to… to… oh, right. To stop
thinking so much. I could try? I bit my lip again, trying really hard. And actually, it wasn’t that hard,
because at least he still wanted me to do something, and Tyson wanting anything from me at all
always made me feel… well, like I was overflowing with even more of that warm wonderfulness that
being around him always filled me up with.

I gave into it, focusing just on doing what he’d told me to, and let the feeling of satisfaction that
brought on sweep through my body like a drug. My anxiety from a moment before disappeared,
replaced by all sorts of lovely, melty feelings that I really didn’t have words for. It was nice, and
even though the kissing and touching and coming bits were over, I still felt lucky… and not just
because Tyson was still pinning me down and watching me.

Although okay, maybe a little bit because of that, too.

I really was lucky, though. Usually, after Tyson did something sexy with one of the guys he brought
home, he was done with them. I was pretty sure I’d never seen him bring the same one by more than
once and I knew I couldn’t expect to be any different, but since we lived together—I bit the inside of
my cheek to stop another happy squeak from escaping about that—he’d still pay some attention to me,
right? I mean, even though he was done kissing me, he was still here.

“You’re still doing it, aren’t you?” Tyson asked, his dark eyes boring into me and making all that
delicious warmth he’d sparked inside start to curl and twist low in my belly. It made me feel
deliciously squirmy and… and okay, if I was being honest, a little bit excited again. Excited in that
way.

But he’d asked me a question, so I tried to focus. Oh, right. I nodded. Tyson was right. I was
overthinking again, wasn’t I?

“What did I tell you, babe?” Tyson asked, his voice all stern but a spark of something happy in his
eyes that reassured me he wasn’t mad.

“Not… not to overthink?” I said, feeling breathless all over again and trying to ignore the way a
certain part of me was hardening again. “Sorry. I’ll… I’ll quit now.”

The corner of Tyson’s lip quirked up, making him look so sexy that I forgot to breathe for a
moment. Then—

“Good boy,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips against mine again.

All the fluttery, floaty feelings I’d had when he’d come on me flooded through me all over again,
making me gasp, and I could feel his smile against my mouth as he used my gasp to turn the sweet kiss
into a more exciting one. I… I wasn’t going to be able to ignore what was happening with my thing
for very much longer, was I? Not with as hard as it was getting now that he was kissing me like that.

Then Tyson stopped kissing me, propping himself up on his elbows and giving me a devilish grin
as he rolled his hips on top of mine. It made me moan. He was so much bigger than me, and he was
hard down there again, too, and when he rubbed against me, it felt… it felt…

“So dirty, baby,” he whispered, doing that mind-blowing hip roll again. “You like how that feels,
your pretty little cock all slick with my cum?”

My breath hitched and I nodded. It was dirty, but I… I did. I liked it so much. Was he going to…

would he do it again? Or reach down with his hand and help me like he had before? Or did he just
want to use me to rub himself against? That would be okay, too. That would be amazing. Especially if
he wanted to come on me some more. I loved wearing Tyson’s cum. I—

“We should get you cleaned up,” Tyson said, cutting into my thoughts and killing that last hope
almost as soon as I’d let myself start to wish for it.

“Oh,” I said, doing my best to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “Okay.”

I was so greedy. I tried not to be, but sometimes I couldn’t help it.

“Love seeing you so… messy,” he said, rolling his weight off me and sort of wedging me against
the back of the couch as he propped himself up on his side.

It really wasn’t big enough for both of us like this. It was perfect.

Tyson looked down at me and ran a hand over my chest, smearing the mess around, and I shivered.

It should have felt wrong, but with him, it didn’t.

He grinned. “You gonna let me help with the cleanup since I’m the one who’s responsible for all
this?”

“Okay,” I said again, then bit my lip to hold in a needy little whimper. I wanted him to keep
touching me like this always, but at the same time, I already missed the feel of him on top of me. I
wouldn’t be ungrateful, though. I wouldn’t. It wasn’t like he’d want to hold me down forever, and
besides, even if it really was over now, he was still being just as wonderful to me as he always was.

Tyson ran a cum-covered finger over my lips. “So damn agreeable,” he whispered, staring at my
mouth as my tongue darted out to taste it. “Is ‘okay’ all you’ve got to say to me, love?”

“Um, thank you?” I said, trying my best to ignore the greedy little shiver that went through me at
the endearment. I knew Tyson didn’t actually mean any of them, but I still felt like a bone-dry sponge,
desperately soaking up every one and always craving more.

Tyson grinned at me, one of his wicked-looking ones that always put all sorts of sinful thoughts in
my head… the kind of thoughts that made me have to use my mattress at night the way I’d told him
about when I just couldn’t manage to ignore my thing any longer.

“You’re covered in my cum and you’re thanking me now, sweetheart?” he asked, standing up and
pulling me to my feet, too.

“Is that okay?” I asked. Good manners were never out of place, right? At least, I hoped so,
because I really wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say after… after everything he’d done.

“It’s very okay,” Tyson said, doing a sexy little shimmy with his hips that made his shorts fall the
rest of the way down. He stepped out of them and pulled his shirt off, too.

He was naked.

Oh Lord, Tyson Graham was naked in front of me, and he was… he was gorgeous. And big.

Really, really big.

He tipped my chin up, smiling down at me, and I felt my cheeks heat when I realized he’d caught
me staring… there.

Tyson leaned in close. “Do you know how perfect you are?” he whispered, his warm breath
against my ear making me shiver and bite back a moan as he ran a hand down my back and squeezed
my bottom. “So eager to please. So willing. And so damn grateful.”

I was. Was that okay? I didn’t know, but I honestly couldn’t clear my head enough to worry about
it, not with him holding me so close like this and saying such nice things to me. Besides, he’d made it
sound like a good thing, just like he made almost everything I did sound like a good thing.

No one but Tyson had ever praised me for… well, for anything before, and it was addicting. It
made me want to always say yes, to be better, to do whatever he wanted just so I could earn more of
that intoxicating approval from him. I’d never say it out loud because I didn’t want to jinx it, but
living with him was the best thing ever. In fact, I was pretty sure he was my favorite person ever.

Tyson stepped back, his hooded eyes running over me. “Get these off,” he said, using that firm
tone that I loved as he tugged at my jeans.

I scrambled out of them, almost tripping but managing it anyway.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmured once I’d kicked them and my briefs aside. He skimmed a hand
through the mess still dripping down my body and then wrapped that hand around the part of me that
had gotten shamefully hard.

I lurched forward, an embarrassing sound bursting out of me.

“That’s right, baby,” Tyson said, stroking me again and smiling down at me like I’d done
something right.

It felt so good that it made my eyes roll back in my head, and I clutched onto his arms so I didn’t
fall over. I’d… I’d forgotten how amazing it felt to be touched there. Although I was pretty sure that
my own hand had never felt as good as his did.

“Just let me take care of you,” he murmured. “Fucking Christ, you look good like this, sugar. All
flushed and slutty and covered in my cum. I want to see you just like this every single day, Sean.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Every day? “You… you want to do this with me again?”

I held my breath as I waited for his answer, a desperate, greedy hope blooming inside me.

Tyson sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he stared down at me. “So much,” he finally said, his
hand going still around my shaft. “Do you want to, sweetness?”

“Yes,” I blurted, nodding like a bobblehead. “Please, Tyson. I… I want everything.”

I snapped my mouth closed, worried that I’d come across as too needy—he’d said “every day,”

but I knew how he was and that he’d just meant it as a figure of speech—but Tyson just smiled, giving
me one of those looks that always made warm, swirling goodness pool in my belly.

“Perfect,” he said instead of getting mad at me for asking for too much. Then he tugged on my…

well, you know. “Let’s get you into the shower, baby, because as sexy as you look like this, you’re
gonna hate me if it dries all over you.”

I’d died and gone to heaven.

“I could never hate you,” I said, pretty sure it was the opposite, actually.

Was he really going to want to touch me again? And… and do everything else? Not every day, not
forever, of course, but maybe for more than just tonight?

But then he kept tugging on me—not the stroking way that made me feel like I was going to
explode, but pulling my thing like it was a handle as he led me down the hall to the bathroom—and I
really didn’t have the ability to think anymore at all. Well, except to realize that I’d been wrong.

There was no way I’d actually died because heaven couldn’t possibly be this good… at least, not the
version of heaven I’d been taught about growing up.

And the things Tyson did to me in the shower? Those wouldn’t have been allowed in that kind of
heaven at all.

4

T Y S ON

“DUDE, CHECK THE LAT PULLDOWNS,” my friend Brian said out of the corner of his mouth, hovering
over the bench to spot me as I powered through my third set of presses. “Didn’t you hit that last
month?”

I forced the bar up one more time with an explosive grunt, then brought it to rest on the rack and
sat up, glancing over at the twink in question.

“Probably,” I said, not entirely sure. He looked kinda familiar and was definitely my type—blond
hair, pretty face, tight ass—but honestly, I was supposed to remember every guy I’d ever stuck my
dick into? I was here on a football scholarship, not a math one.

“Well, looks like you could again by the way he’s eyeing you in the mirror,” Brian said with a
grin, tossing me a towel to wipe off the bench. “You want me to find another spotter so you can take
him back to the locker room?”

“Nah,” I said, taking a second to down some water before taking up my position at the head of the
bench. “Quit stalling and lift.” I smirked. “Unless you need me to lighten the bar a little?”

I reached for plates, acting like I was about to just to mess with him.

“Fuck you,” Brian said predictably, lifting the bar with a grunt before I could touch it. “This is…

a fucking… cake walk,” he said between reps. “I should… load up… more weight.”

I snorted, my hands hovering under the bar because I might give him shit, but you don’t fuck with
spotting. Still, if Brian thought he was fooling me with his bullshit about being able to bench more
than I could, he was sorely mistaken. I knew his limits almost as well as I did my own—we were
both juniors, both here on football scholarships, and we’d been working out together since freshman
year—and this morning, I’d loaded the bar with enough weight that he’d be lucky to get through all
three sets.

Shit, I’d barely managed it... not that those words would ever pass my lips, of course.

“What the… fuck,” Brian grunted, forcing the bar up for the last rep of his first set.

I grabbed it at the top, maneuvering it onto the rack for him.

“You got something to work out of your system or something this morning, Ty?” he asked, rubbing
his pecs for a second before shaking out his arms and reaching for the bar again to start his second
set. “This is... fucking… heavy.”

“Just say the word and we’ll take it down to pussy-weight for you,” I said, earning a glare and a

“fuck you, motherfucker” for my mad conversational deflection skills.

But I wasn’t working something out of my system, thank you very much, I’d just realized that I
was going to need to push myself a little harder this morning to get in the zone, that was all. Lifting
while distracted was flat-out stupid, and I’d… well, guess you could say I’d had a little trouble
focusing at first.

I’d never been one to spend all that much time thinking about the guys I fucked once my pants
were zipped again—and by not “all that much,” I basically meant none—and I sure as shit had never
been distracted during a workout just because I’d gotten my rocks off the night before. This morning,
though? For some reason, I couldn’t get Sean’s hot-as-fuck cum-face out of my mind.

Or the desperate little sounds he’d made when my hand had been on his dick.

Or the way he’d clung to me in the shower when I’d pushed him up against the wall and jacked us
off together after getting him cleaned up from the first round.

Or that look he’d had on his face, all adoring and glowy and shit, when I’d told him how fucking
good it had been… how gorgeous he’d looked with my cum all over him… how perfect he’d felt with
his legs wrapped around me and his hot little mouth mine for the taking, letting me do any damn thing I
wanted and then thanking me for it…

Not that one night had been enough time to get through even half of what I really wanted to do with
him yet. And… fuck. That was it, wasn’t it? Yet. Sweet little Sean wasn’t gonna be a one-and-done
for me, and it freaked me the fuck out almost as badly as the fact that after our shower last night I’d
wanted even more.

I’d almost told him he was gonna sleep with me.

In my room.

In my bed.

Jesus. Thank fuck I’d come to my senses and sent him off to his own room instead, but damn if this
morning I hadn’t had to stop myself from waking him up with a lesson on how to suck dick before
heading in to meet Brian here at the gym.

“Fuuuuuck,” Brian said, fina-fucking-ly making it to the end of his second set and giving me a
chance to take my eyes off the bar while he took his forty-five-second rest period. I used the
opportunity to glance over at the twink he’d pointed out earlier, now busy doing deadlifts. The guy
really did have a temptingly round little bubble of an ass, and when he caught my eye in the mirror, I
could see by the hungry expression in his eyes that Brian was right. All I’d have to do is jerk my head
toward the locker room and the guy would drop the kettlebells in his hands and meet me there.

The twink licked his lips, letting his eyes roam over me through the mirror, and I… looked back
down at Brian.

“What, still resting?” I asked just to get a rise out of him even though we were only at thirty
seconds.

“Dick,” he said.

I smirked. “Feel free to tap out if the last set is more than you can handle.”

Brian snorted and cursed me out a little more, as expected, then grabbed the bar and got to work,
giving me the perfect excuse to avoid eye contact with the twink again.

I’d been in such a hurry to get out of the house before giving in to the temptation to wake Sean up
this morning that I hadn’t even jerked off, so the opportunity for a quick locker room BJ to relieve a
little pressure would normally have been something I wouldn’t have had to think twice about. But...

fuck. It was Sean’s mouth I wanted to see stretched around my cock, not some quick locker room
hook-up who I was guaranteed to forget about the minute my balls were empty.

“Fucking… hell… Tyson,” Brian gritted out, his arms shaking as he forced the bar up for his final
few reps. “You… suck.”

I took it and dropped it back on the supports with a clang. “Not my fault you felt like you had to
keep up.”

He glared at me as he sat up, then chugged some water before asking, “What the fuck is the level-
ten bullshit about this morning anyway? We trying to kill ourselves or something?”

“Or something,” I said, definitely not ready to air my freak-out. “Come on. We’ve still got
shoulders to get through.”

“Fucking shoulders,” Brian muttered, heaving himself off the bench and shooting an appreciative
glance at the twink as we walked past.

Brian was the only other out player on the team and just as much of a manwhore as I was. It was
one of the many reasons we’d hit it off... and exactly why I couldn’t admit what was really on my
mind. All the feelings Sean had stirred up in me were already fucking with my head enough that I
didn’t need to subject myself to the shit Brian would give me if he found out that not only had I broken
my hands-off rule with my cute little roommate, but that I was already thinking of a repeat.

I snorted at my own inner bullshit as we each grabbed some weights and got started on the hell
known as shoulder presses. “Thinking of” was a damn lie and I knew it. “Planning on” might’ve been
a bit more accurate. “Already fucking addicted to” was what it actually felt like, though… which, not
gonna lie, was scary as fuck no matter how sweet and eager to please Sean was.

“Pretty fucking sure we deserve a reward for this, bro,” Brian said with a groan once we finally
made it through our sets, pulling one arm across his chest and then the other to stretch out some of the
burn. He glanced around the gym, then turned back to me with a dirty smirk. “Looks like that twink is
done, too. Wanna check the locker room and see if he’s waiting? We could tag team him.”

“Nah,” I said, one hundred percent uninterested. “I’m good.”

Brian glanced at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, fuck. Guess we ran a little long today, didn’t we?

I’ve got class in half an hour on the other side of campus. I should hit the showers. But maybe we
head out to a club tonight and find some action, yeah?”

“Can’t,” I said, following him toward the locker room.

“Plans?” Brian asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

And okay, yeah, normally I was more of a follow-my-dick opportunist than a planner, and I was
always down to go out and get some ass if we didn’t have a game the next day, but right now?

“Yep,” I said, latching on to the “plans” excuse and running with it. “I’ll be busy tonight. Sorry.”

Not sorry.

Also, not exactly a lie since my cock definitely had a few plans, all of which involved getting
some relief in the only place I wanted it from at the moment... which for damn sure wasn’t at a club
with some random twink.

“You’re busy doing what?” Brian asked, grabbing my arm to stop me just outside the door to the
locker room.

“The fuck, Brian?” I said, jerking out of his grasp. “You the plan police now or something?”

“Just curious, dude,” he said, his brow crinkling in confusion. “Why you being so weird?”

“I’m not,” I lied, even though obsessively thinking about my roommate like this definitely
qualified as “weird”... especially when I was thinking less about how I couldn’t wait to stick my dick
inside him and more about what I wanted to do for him.

Shit, which was… everything.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. I didn’t just want to make Sean feel good, I wanted to ruin him
for anyone but me. I wanted to fucking wreck him.

Knowing that I was the only one who’d ever touched him was a rush, and if that made me a selfish
piece of shit, I gave exactly zero shits. I was the first and the fucking only, and as far as I was
concerned, it was gonna stay that way. No one else got to touch him, and even though I knew damn
well that it was more than a little fucked up, my cock loved the fact that “no one” included even Sean
himself. In fact, my cock loved it so much that I had to drop my hands in front of my junk so that the
water bottle I was carrying would keep Brian from having something else to grill me about.

“Busy, huh? That really all you planning on giving me?” Brian asked, smirking.

“Yep,” I said, staring him down. “Nothing else to give.”

He cocked an eyebrow, giving me a “you-fucking-bullshitter” look. At least my water bottle camo
was working, though. If he’d noticed the state of my dick—which was rapidly turning into hard-as-a-
fucking-rock thanks to the way I’d started thinking about all my “plans” for Sean—I’d definitely be
hearing about it. The only thing I wanted to hear, though, was Sean begging me to let him come again.

No, begging me to make him come, since he couldn’t do it himself. And when I did? Once I’d pulled a
few more orgasms out of him and had him all blissed out and boneless for me again? Fuck yeah, then

I’d get mine. I’d cover him with my cum all over again, or maybe fill his tight little virgin ass with it,
or, if I was feeling particularly generous, let him swallow it down by the gallon… all while he turned
those big baby blues on me and sweetly thanked me for the privilege, just like he had before.

I bit back a groan. All that sweetness and gratitude and shit wasn’t normally my post-sex jam—
and it probably should have had me running the other way since I was all about no-strings and every
single blink, sigh, and shy little smile of Sean’s roped me in a little tighter—but instead? All that oh-
so-eager adoration of his was like a fucking drug, and I already needed another fix.

Brian smirked, staring me down. “You’re so full of it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest
and continuing to block my way to the locker room. “If your ‘plans’ aren’t a big deal—” his eyes
dropped down to my crotch for a minute, so maybe the camo hadn’t been as effective as I’d thought,

“—then it shouldn’t be a problem to tell me about them, yeah?”

The fucker wasn’t gonna let it go, was he?

Fine.

“Jesus, bro. Nothing to see here, okay? I’m just planning on hanging with my roommate tonight.

Maybe… study and shit.”

And by that I meant study how to make little Sean beg for my cock.

“Hm,” Brian said, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at me. “You’re still living
with that shy little freshman brainiac, right? The cute blond? Didn’t realize you two had gotten tight.”

I bristled, then made myself back the fuck down to avoid giving Brian more reason to get up in my
business. “Yep,” I bit out. “Now can we hit the showers, please?” I took an exaggerated sniff.

“You’re fucking rank, bro,” I added for good measure, making a face.

Brian ignored it. “So… your roomie still straight?” he asked, reaching down to not-so-discreetly
adjust himself. “’Cause you know I’ve always thought that mouth of his was pretty fucking sweet-
looking, even if he never seems to open it when I’m around. But maybe I can help with that, yeah?

You want me to come by and—”

Oh, hell no. My chest bumped Brian’s as I crowded into his personal space, cutting him off mid-
sentence. Sure, we’d tag teamed often enough before, but this was different.

I wasn’t sharing Sean.

Ever.

“You don’t have to fucking worry about whether Sean’s straight or not, bro,” I said, my voice
hard. “You’re not invited.”

For a split second, Brian looked like he might go all aggro on me—and fine, my fault, since I’d
over-fucking-reacted without thinking—but then he just laughed, shoving me away. “Dude, all you had
to say was ‘not invited.’ No need for all the dramatics. But for real, let me know when you get bored
with him. Now that I know your pretty little twink is down for some D, I’m definitely gonna need a
taste for mysel— the fuck, dude?”

Brian shoved me back hard this time, his face turning red.

Oops. I hadn’t meant to slam him against the wall.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Sorry. Just… I gotta go, okay?”

“Uh, no, fucker, not okay,” Brian spat, lowering his voice a little when one of the gym staff
walked past and shot us some side-eye. “What the fuck is up with you?”

I really didn’t want to think too hard about the answer to that one, because feelings for Sean or
not, I didn’t do this shit. Could I turn Sean into my own personal on-demand fuck toy? Choke him with
my cock? Teach him how to ride it and then fuck him until he limped? Hell yeah. I excelled at all of
that and more. But this sudden attack of caveman possessiveness and the satisfaction I got just from…

from making him happy? The way those tears of his, the ones he’d let drop last night without comment
or complaint, had ripped something inside me to shreds? And what about the way I’d wanted to wake
him up this morning—not just to start the day off right by shoving my cock into his mouth, but maybe
to… to just kiss him or some sappy shit like that, too?—yeah, no. That was veering awfully close to
the kind of relationship territory that I’d always avoided like the plague.

I shuddered, my vision going hazy for a second.

“Dude,” Brian said, his pissed-the-fuck-off face dropping away in an instant. “You okay?”

“’Course I am,” I lied, rubbing at my chest when it suddenly got a little hard to breathe. I was not
equipped to handle the kind of… of responsibility or whatever you wanted to call it that came with
all these unasked for feelings.

Not that I was gonna let Brian step in to “handle” anything with Sean, either, of course.

Or let anyone else, thank you very much.

No one was gonna handle Sean but me, or put their hands on him, or… or...

Fuck.

My shoulders slumped. I was fucked, that’s was what was up with me. I didn’t want anyone else
to have Sean because I wanted Sean… but wanting Sean all for myself sounded dangerously close to
wanting a boyf—

Nope.

I coughed as my throat spasmed. I couldn’t even think the word without choking.

Bian’s eyes widened. Then—

“Holy shit,” he said, laughing like a douche. “You’re sprung.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“Ty, for real. You look like you’re about to puke. And the way you took my head off just for
wanting a piece of—”

My glare was so vicious that he held his hands up to ward it off, laughing at me again.

“Yeah, that,” he said, still grinning. “So… you and little Sean, huh? Like, exclusively?”

“Fuck,” I said, slumping against the wall as the lat-pulldown twink from earlier came out of the
locker room dressed in street clothes.

“That an invitation, handsome?” the twink asked, slowing down and turning to walk backward as
he passed Brian and me. He looked me up and down with a hungry expression that did not-a-damn-
thing for my cock, even though by all rights that particular muscle should have been raring to go since

I’d missed out on any form of morning workout for it.

“Sorry, babe,” Brian said to the guy, latching onto my arm and tugging me upright. “Tyson’s not
available. He’s gone and got himself shackled to a boyfriend.”

“The fuck?” I blurted, the walls suddenly closing in on me as I yanked my arm away from him.

“Nobody said anything about the B-word, motherfucker.”

“My bad,” Brian said, turning to wink at the twink. “Guess he is available, so if you wanna—”

“Shut up, dick,” I said, stomping ahead of him into the locker room as his laughter rang out behind
me.

I didn’t have time for this shit. I needed to shower and get back to the dorms. I knew Sean’s
schedule as well as my own, and since he had a lab and then a study group tonight that would keep
him out late, if I didn’t make it back before he left for his first class, I was gonna miss out on seeing
him at all today.

And even though Brian was wrong—Sean for damn sure wasn’t my boyf—uh, my anything—I still
needed my fix.

5

S E A N

WHEN I HEARD Tyson come in I was in the kitchen, moping over a cup of hot cocoa as I tried to
motivate myself to get ready for class. The sound of the door startled an embarrassing squeak out of
me and made me almost drop my mug, splashing cocoa over both the counter and the front of the t-
shirt I’d slept in.

I barely felt it.

Tyson was back and I didn’t know what to do. He’d already been gone when I’d woken up, but
since he didn’t always make it back from his morning workout before I left for class, I’d just assumed

I wouldn’t see him until later. Like, probably until days later. He was so nice that I was sure he
wouldn’t avoid me forever, but even if I was a-bit-okay-totally inexperienced with the kind of things
we’d done the night before, I was pretty sure that the whole “morning after” awkwardness of avoiding
the other person was standard... especially for someone like Tyson, who never did repeats.

My eyes started to sting, and I told myself sternly to stop being such a baby. I got to live with him
all the time, at least for the rest of the school year, and that alone made me the luckiest boy ever. All
the extra stuff from the night before was more than I’d ever hoped for, and I should be grateful he’d
even looked at me like that once, not turn into a crybaby just because he wasn’t going to do it again.

“Sean? Where you at, sweetness?” Tyson called out, the sound of his footsteps heading my way.

“Here,” I said just as he walked into the kitchen looking like every good dream I’d ever had.

I guess I’d been wrong about the morning-after avoidance stuff. I set my mug of cocoa down
carefully since my hand was trembling and I didn’t want to spill it again, then tried to smile. I must
not have done a very good job of it though, because Tyson frowned instead of smiling back like he
usually did.

My stomach sank. I hated making him frown. I was going to have to do better. If he wanted to skip
the part where he avoided me, I really couldn’t complain. I would just have to find a way to stop
wishing for things that I didn’t deserve and should be grateful for even having had once, and go back
to acting normal around him.

I smoothed a hand over the cocoa stain on my t-shirt as he walked toward me, trying for a better
smile. “Um, did you… did you have a good workout? Do you want me to make you some coffee? I
would have had it ready for you but, um, I didn’t realize you were coming back.”

I turned around to get some out of the cupboard, but before I’d managed anything more than
pulling the coffee beans out, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me back against his
chest.

“Fuck coffee,” he said, running his hands up under my t-shirt as he nuzzled my neck. “You really
think that’s what I came home for, babe?”

I… was that… was I supposed to actually be able to answer that? He was so warm and solid
pressed up against me like that, and his hands on me felt so good that I couldn’t even think, much less
speak. And I definitely didn’t want to move, not while he was touching me again. Touching me and…

and… and liking it. I could tell he liked it, because his… his… well, I could feel him. That part of
him. Hard and hot and pressing insistently into my lower back.

“Did you miss me this morning, sugar?” he whispered, his hands roaming over my chest and
lighting little fires inside me when they skimmed over my nipples.

I gasped, arching my back as I chased the amazing feeling before I could catch myself.

Tyson laughed, low and dirty, and all of a sudden I was swelling… down there.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, pinching one of my nipples so hard it should have hurt. It
did hurt… but it hurt so, so good. “But when I ask you something, babe, I want an answer, okay?” he
added, his voice dropping to a throaty rumble that, as close as he was holding me, I could feel all the
way through me.

“Okay,” I managed, wanting so bad to be good for him. He wanted an answer, but I could barely
catch my breath. “Yes, I… yes, Tyson. I missed you.”

I’d started missing him last night, from the minute he’d told me to go get some sleep after doing
such deliciously dirty things to me in the bathroom. And this morning, I’d missed him, too, from the
moment I’d woken up and realized it was over. I mean, sure, he’d said he wanted to do sexy things
with me again after the first time on the couch, but then he had done them, in the shower, so I’d
assumed that was it.

But now… maybe it wasn’t?

Did Tyson want to do more things?

He turned me around so I was facing him, then pulled my shirt off over my head. “Got this dirty,
did you?” he asked as he dropped it on the floor. “So naughty.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, even though the way he was looking at me, I didn’t think he was really mad.

“How sorry, baby?” he asked, his hands cupping my bottom and pulling me tight against him.

Just having his hands on me had already made me so hard that a wet spot had started to form on
the front of my pajama pants, and when he held me against him like that—kneading my cheeks like
they were dough—it made my thing rub against his thigh, over and over, until I thought I was going to
explode.

“Tyson,” I gasped, clutching onto his arms as waves of heat started rushing through me, all going
right there, until I was throbbing with it.

He laughed, all low and husky, then pulled his leg away, smacking my bottom hard enough to
sting. “Did I say you could get yourself off like that?”

My eyes flew open—when had they closed?—and a whole different kind of heat rushed through
me.

My face burned with embarrassment. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I said, biting my lip and forcing myself to
hold still even though I desperately wanted to press against him again.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, pulling my lip out from between my teeth and rubbing his finger across it.

“This is mine. No one gets to bite it but me.”

I whimpered, my hips pushing forward as if they had a mind of their own. He could have my
mouth. He could have anything. I wanted him to claim all of me.

Tyson dropped his hand from my lips and stopped me from moving, holding me away from him.

“None of that,” he said, smiling down at me like maybe I hadn’t really done anything wrong after all.

“I told you, I expect you to answer when I ask you a question, baby.”

I nodded, having trouble concentrating. He’d asked me a question?

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I said, because that was an easy one. I wanted to make him happy, always. And I did want
to be good for him. I wanted to be anything he wanted me to be.

“Okay then,” he said as he stared at my mouth, his eyes flaring with heat just like they had last
night. “I asked you, ‘how sorry,’ Sean. Because if you’re sorry, then I’m pretty sure you’re going to
need to make it up to me, right?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding like a bobblehead even though I couldn’t really remember what I’d done.

That didn’t matter, though. If he wanted me to do something, then I definitely wanted to do it. “Um,
how… how can I make it up to you, Tyson?”

“Fucking Christ, baby,” he said with a laugh, grinning down at me like I’d said just the right thing.

“You’ll do anything, won’t you?”

I would have said yes again, but he let go of my hips and ran a finger over my lips like he had
before, and it felt so good that I forgot to talk. His touch was barely there, but somehow it made my
lips tingle and spark like they were full of fireworks… and then he pressed against them a little
harder, forcing my mouth open, and those fireworks exploded throughout my entire body, making me
feel like I was the thing bursting apart in a shower of light.

I moaned, a sound just as naughty as he’d accused me of being earlier.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pushing his finger into my mouth and stroking it over my tongue. “Now
suck for me, sweetness.”

I closed my lips around his finger and did it, needy sounds building up in my throat as I watched
him watching me. His eyes went all sexy and dark as his other hand came up to cup my jaw, and when
he slid his finger in and out of my mouth it felt… it felt dirty and delicious and so right that I knew it
had to be wrong.

But I still wanted more.

I really was naughty, just like he’d said.

“So fucking sexy,” Tyson murmured as he pushed a second finger in and stroked both of them
along my tongue.

Oh, God. I wanted to close my eyes and let all the good feelings flood through me, except I didn’t
want to miss seeing the way he was looking down at me. It was making my thing so hard it was getting
difficult to ignore, but I couldn’t even feel guilty about how bad I was being, not when I could tell
how much Tyson liked it.

“Watch your teeth, pretty thing,” he said when I got distracted and slipped, tightening his grip to
correct me. “I can’t give you my cock if I can’t trust you to treat it right, now can I?”

My eyes widened and I moaned again, squeezing his arms to hold myself up as my knees went
weak. I knew that some people did that—sucked other things, too—I’d just never thought Tyson
would let me do it.

Would he?

Was that what he’d meant?

He pulled his fingers out, grinning down at me. “Oh, you’re hungry for it, aren’t you?”

“You’d… you’d really let me?” I asked, my heart getting all fluttery as he kept smiling at me. At
me. It kind of made me want to cry again, but in the good way this time.

“If you’re good, I might,” he said, pushing me down to my knees.

The bulge in his track pants was right in front of my face, and he rubbed it slowly, pressing the
material tight so I could see the whole thing. “You want to suck this for me, baby? See how happy you
can make me with that pretty mouth of yours?”

“Yes, please,” I whispered, my eyes glued to him as he kept stroking himself through his pants.

My heart was beating so fast I started to feel a little dizzy, and if I’d been in bed dreaming of this, I
would have had to rub myself against the mattress until I made a mess for sure.

Then Tyson moved his hand away from himself, resting it on top of my head. “Take it out for me,
sweetheart,” he said, tunneling his fingers through my hair while he pushed his t-shirt up with his
other hand and held it against his chest, baring his stomach in front of me.

I whimpered, I couldn’t help it. He was so sexy.

I skimmed my fingers over the hard ridges of his six-pack and the thick ridge he’d been stroking
moved, twitching under the silky material of his pants. Being so close to it made my mouth water. I
would have pinched myself to be sure I wasn’t dreaming, except that I didn’t want to stop touching
him.

“Come on now,” he said, his voice getting gravelly as his grip tightened on my head. “You know
what I want. Get my cock out like I told you to, babe.”

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down, my hands trembling
almost as bad as when I’d spilled my cocoa earlier. His skin was hot and smooth and I wanted to stop
and touch more of it, to lick it and rub my face against every part of him, but that was greedy and

Tyson was right, I did know what he wanted, because he’d already told me.

His pants were caught on his hard length, pulling it downward as I lowered them, but when I
finally got them to the top of his thighs it popped free, bouncing up and smacking me in the chin.

I gasped, jerking backward in surprise.

“Wrong direction, baby,” Tyson said with that low, sexy laugh of his.

His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me forward again, close enough that the fat head of
his shaft rubbed against my cheek. The hot, musky scent of him made me feel almost drugged, my
brain slowing down as my own thing started to throb with need. It wasn’t just that part of me, though.

Every cell in my body suddenly felt heavy and warm, filled to the brim with sheer, desperate
wanting.

“Don’t stop there,” Tyson said when I turned my head toward his shaft, knocking it with my chin.

“Wrap your hands around it and put it in your mouth.”

A heavy drop of liquid started to bead up from his slit, and I licked my lips, mesmerized by it.

“Now, Sean,” Tyson growled, jolting me into action. “Need your mouth.”

I reached for him without thinking, instinctively doing what he said, but the moment my fingers
brushed against the silky hardness of his shaft, my stomach cramped hard, bile rising in my throat.

Oh, no. Oh, please. Not now.

“Baby?”

I froze, the tips of my fingers fluttering against his hot length as I squeezed my eyes closed and
tried to make all the bad feelings go away. It wasn’t my thing I was touching. Tyson’s was so much
bigger, and it was darker, and… and the top flared wide over the thick shaft, different than mine.

I knew it wasn’t mine.

I wouldn’t get in trouble for touching it.

Tyson wanted me to touch it.

I sucked in a breath, then another one, squeezing my eyes closed as I tried to force my hand to
wrap around him like he’d said.

My stomach cramped again, even harder this time.

Tyson gave my hair a sharp tug and my eyes flew open, darting up to meet his as I started to shake
all over. “I… I can do better,” I promised, because letting him down would be worse than anything. “I
just… can I… just give me a second. Please.” I bit the inside of my cheek, so hard that I could taste
blood. It didn’t help. I was going to cry again and then he really would be done with me. “Tyson,
please,” I whispered, my throat so tight it ached. “I…I—”

“Baby, stop,” he said, so firmly that my mouth snapped closed. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

I blinked. He’d forgotten what?

He let go of his shirt, letting it fall down to cover his sexy stomach, and pulled my hands away.

“Put these behind your back and keep them there for me, okay, sweetheart?” he asked, giving me a
look that made me want to cry in a different way.

He wasn’t mad?

I did what he’d said, the awful, cramping pain in my stomach settling down as that look of his
moved through me like delicious, warm syrup, making everything bad start to fade away.

“That’s it,” he whispered, running his fingers over my lips like he’d done earlier as he smiled
down at me. “You’re so fucking perfect. The touching thing… that was my bad. But I’m gonna take
better care of you from now on, okay? I promise.”

“Can I… can I still suck it?” My cheeks flared with heat. “Please?”

Was that too much to ask when he was already being so nice to me? He was still so hard though.

Wouldn’t he want…?

He let go of my hair and pulled his shirt all the way off, then wrapped one of his own hands
around himself and pointed it toward me, teasing my mouth with the tip again. “You sure you still
want to, babe?” he asked, rubbing it back and forth against my lips, over and over, until the fireworks
started inside me again. Then he pulled it away. “You don’t have to.”

“Please,” I begged, squeezing my hands tightly together behind my back like he’d said as my eyes
shot up to meet his again.

My breath caught in my throat. He looked almost all the way naked from the position I was in, and
he was so sexy it made my mouth go dry. But that wasn’t even it. The way he was staring down at
me…

No one had ever looked at me like that before.

“Jesus, Sean,” he said, his voice rough even though the look in his eyes was the opposite.

He stroked himself, another bead of flavor appearing at the tip, and I licked my lips, tasting what
he’d already smeared on them. I hadn’t meant to get greedy, but… but the way he was leaking, and the
vein throbbing on his shaft, and the way his sac was pulled up tight under his body… he needed
relief, I knew he did, because when my own thing was that hard, there was nothing on earth I wanted
more than to do something to it.

So he’d still want me to, wouldn’t he?

He’d still let me suck it?

Or if he didn’t, maybe… maybe…

“Could you… could you at least touch it in front of me?” I asked, my stomach quivering with
excitement as my thing jerked, rubbing against my soft sleep pants until I had to bite back a moan.

“Please. Do it right here,” I whispered, shamelessly begging but unable to stop myself. “Stroke it
until it… until it gets all over me, like you did before.”

“Fuck, baby,” Tyson growled, grabbing my hair again and tipping my head back as he pushed the
wet tip against my lips again. “You’re asking me to jerk myself off right here? To come on your face?”

My tongue darted out, greedy to taste him again. His tip was slippery with his flavor, spongy and
soft and hot and musky and… and intoxicating as it pressed against my lips. I let my eyes drift closed
and breathed in, wondering if this was how it felt to be drunk. So good, I wanted to suck him into my
mouth, but I’d already messed up once and couldn’t stand the idea of doing it again, so I held myself
back.

I opened my eyes and peeked up at him. “Please?” Then I licked him again anyway, even though
he hadn’t said I could, because I just couldn’t resist.

Tyson groaned.

It didn’t sound like a bad sound, so I did it again, pulling him just a little way into my mouth, too.

I wanted to be good for him, I really did, but he made me want it so bad.

His hand tightened on my head and I forced myself to stop licking. “Please, Tyson, let me try to
suck it? I won’t… I won’t stop this time, I promise.”

“You’re fucking killing me,” he muttered, which was something I didn’t think he minded since he
was staring down at me with his lips quirked up on one side in that oh-so-sexy half-smile that always
made my heart feel all fluttery. “Do it, baby,” he said, pressing the tip against my lips again until I
opened them for him. “Let me see how good my cock looks in that pretty mouth of yours.”

And then he pushed it in, just like he had with his fingers, sliding it back over my tongue as my
jaw stretched wide and his scent and heat and hot, musky flavor overpowered all my senses.

I moaned, lunging forward without thinking to try and take it deeper. I squeezed my hands behind
my back so tightly that something popped in my shoulders, but I barely noticed. Tyson slid back,
taking it away for a moment, then pushed forward again, forcing my mouth open even wider as he
filled and filled and filled me, aiming for the back of my throat.

I gagged, lurching back.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Tyson crooned in that low, husky tone I loved hearing, holding me
in place. “Breathe through it. Good boy. That’s it. Now suck… suck, Sean. Fucking Christ. So damn
good for me, baby. That’s… that’s it. Jesus.”

He started breathing harder, rocking his hips as he thrust in and out of my mouth faster. His words
felt like sweet, warm syrup. They flowed through my veins like a drug. My jaw started to ache, but it
didn’t matter. I kept gagging when he went deep, but Tyson didn’t seem to mind at all. He seemed like
he liked it, and just knowing I was making him happy almost made it feel like it was my thing getting
the attention, my thing that was swelling and pulsing, my thing that was… was going to… to…

I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed. I was so close to making a mess myself that I started to shake,
everything inside my pajama pants tightening up as the way he was using my mouth pushed me closer
and closer to an explosion.

“Fuck, baby,” Tyson suddenly growled, both hands on my head as he thrust forward hard and then
held me there. “Take it, take it, take it fucking deeper.”

My throat spasmed as he pressed against the back of it, and then suddenly something let go. He
slid right in, all the way in, his body slamming forward to press against my face. His thick length
choked me, cutting off my air supply, and my eyes watered as I stared up at him, entranced by the
ecstasy on his face.

I was doing this.

It was my mouth making him groan and shake and curse as he shuddered against my face.

I didn’t need air.

I didn’t even want it.

I just wanted this to last. I wanted it to last forever.

“Sean,” Tyson said, pushing himself impossibly deeper for a moment as he gasped out my name.

Then he swelled even more, his shaft pulsing inside my mouth, and his release suddenly poured down
my throat, thick and hot and endless. “You’re fucking… fucking perfect, baby.”

My throat convulsed around him, my body finally starting to struggle to breathe even though I
didn’t want it to end. It had to, though, because all good things did eventually, and I gagged hard as he
slowly pulled out, his musky flavor filling my mouth.

He was still coming in sporadic, pulsing jets that filled the back of my throat and choked me all
over again as he slid out of my mouth. I gasped for air, leaning against his strong thighs, and because
he was always so good to me, he put it back in my mouth even though he was done, sliding it in and
out a few times as his voice hummed around me in a low, comforting rumble that made me feel
deliciously drugged and floaty all over again.

I felt so good I almost thought I’d come, too—I’d definitely been about to—but then Tyson pulled
out and hauled me up to my feet, reaching straight into my pajama pants and wrapping his hand around
my hard, shamefully throbbing shaft as he held me tightly against him.

“Your turn, sweet thing,” he whispered, stroking me once.

I gasped, hot sparks bursting to life inside me.

Twice.

I started to shake.

Three times, and—

“Tyson,” I screamed, my back arching as all the good feelings slammed through me at once.

I couldn’t breathe for a moment… couldn’t see… couldn’t do anything but hold onto him tight
while I broke into a million pieces of hot, sparkling pleasure that totally eclipsed everything else.

Fireworks.

And then Tyson was kissing me, his hand still wrapped around me as my hips jerked with tiny
little aftershocks, each one sending another cascade of glittering sparks through me until I’d burned up
completely, just ashes in his arms.

“Damn, you’re something else, Sean,” Tyson murmured after he’d kissed and kissed and kissed
me, finally pulling his hand out of my pants and smoothing it up and down my back as he smiled down
at me again. “Fucking incredible.”

My eyes teared up. He was so, so nice to me.

“Did you like that, sweetheart?” he asked.

I nodded, even though it wasn’t really true. “Like” just wasn’t big enough.

He rubbed my mouth with his thumb and then pressed another kiss where he’d touched, groaning
softly as he pulled away. “Fuck, your cum tastes just as good on you as mine does. Gonna have to feed
you something more, though, if I’m going to take care of you the way I promised.”

“You’re… you’re going to let me suck you again?” I asked, hope rising inside me so fast I felt
dizzy. It was like a helium balloon let loose from its tether, sure to be lost but so wonderful for the
brief moment I had it.

Tyson laughed, then kissed me hard one more time and let go of me, tucking himself away as he
pulled his pants back up. “You’re fucking insatiable and I love it, but no, baby. I meant I’m actually
going to actually feed you. Breakfast, you know?”

I blinked. He… wanted to cook for me? No. That couldn’t have been what he meant.

“Um, what do you want to eat, Tyson?” I asked, trying to remember what we had that I could make
him something nice with. Well, nice and also fast, since I had to get to class soon.

Or I could skip it if he was really hungry?

It was mostly me who went out and bought the groceries even though he always left me money for
stuff like that. I tried to stick to healthy things for his training diet, but my brain was still feeling fuzzy
and warm and delicious, and it was hard to remember what we had on hand right now. Maybe, um—

Tyson swatted my bottom. “Go shower and get dressed, sweetness. I’ve got this.”

“But—” I started, wanting to double-check whether he was sure I couldn’t make him something to
eat first.

“What did I just tell you to do?” he asked in that firm voice that always settled my nerves, cutting
me off before I could get the question out. “I’m making breakfast. You’re going to be good for me and
go get ready for class. You weren’t about to argue, were you, Sean?”

My heart started pounding even though I couldn’t have said why. He… really wanted to cook for
me? Take care of me? Even more than he already had?

“Well?” he prompted, giving me that sexy half-smile of his that had that delicious, syrupy warmth
spreading through my veins again.

“No,” I said quickly, remembering almost too late that he wanted me to answer when he asked
something. “Of course not, Tyson.”

I would never argue with him.

He smiled, pushing my hair off my forehead and pulling me close again. “Damn, baby. You know

I’m never gonna get enough of you, right?” he asked, leaning down to kiss me again.

My heart started pounding all over again.

Did he mean it?

He couldn’t really mean it.

It was still so nice to hear, though, and when he kissed me like this—holding me so tight that it felt
like I couldn’t have gone anywhere if I’d tried; like it would never have to end because he wouldn’t
let it—it was easy to let myself pretend that maybe he did, at least for a little while.

6

S E A N

WHEN I’D REALIZED that I’d actually earned some of the scholarships that my high school guidance
counselor had suggested I apply for—well, I’d won a lot of them, actually—I’d been a little bit
shocked. I’d done my best with the essays and stuff, of course, but I’d never expected so many of them
to like me. It had meant I had my pick of some really nice schools, and I’d chosen the best one I could
that was also the farthest away from my parents.

I’d hoped that going to a good school would mean they wouldn’t notice that I was also sort of
trying to get away from them, but of course they’d still found things to criticize about my choice. In
fact, they’d told me I had to pick a different one—a closer one that happened to be my father’s alma
mater—but I’d… well, I’d said no.

I still got the shakes when I remembered that conversation.

And of course, I hadn’t actually said “no”—I’d never say that because I knew what it would get
me—but with all the scholarship money and some stuff my teachers told my parents about seizing
opportunities and or maximizing potential or something like that, and the way my guidance counselor
had stepped in to support me, too, they’d finally backed down and let me come.

I’d figured I’d be lonely out here since I didn’t know anyone else and had never been great at
making friends anyway, but that was fine. Still, I’d loaded up my schedule with as many classes as
they’d let me take, hoping that keeping myself busy might help me not feel so out of place and… and
alone, but now I sort of wished I could have a do-over when it came to making my class schedule. I’d
never imagined in a million years that I’d be lucky enough to get an amazing roommate like Tyson, and
now—ever since he’d started noticing me that way—I kind of wanted to whine and pout about all the
time I had to be away from him for classes and study groups and labs and even homework time at
home in our dorm.

Of course, no one likes a whiner, so I didn’t, but I still wanted to.

It had been almost a week since Tyson had started paying so much attention to me and… and
doing things with me, and so far, he hadn’t brought anyone else home or seemed bored with me yet. It
made me feel kind of giddy, and it had taken a lot of effort to stay focused on my studies the way I
needed to. All I wanted to do was be with him when he had time for me, or think of things I could do
for him when he was away at class or at the gym or out with his friends.

Well, he hadn’t been going out with his friends much like he usually did, actually.

I had no idea how long the miracle of having caught his eye would last and I didn’t want to waste
a second of it… which is maybe why I’d forgotten to call my parents the way they required me to do
every week. For the first time in my life, doing what they expected of me honestly hadn’t even crossed
my mind. Usually, they were always in the back of my mind. Well, not them as like, people, but just a
constant awareness of how much of a disappointment I’d always been to them and an ever-present
hum of anxiety. It kept me alert, I guess. Helped me stay focused on always trying to do better so I
could make them happy. So… so that wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, was it? I hoped not, because it
was always there, the nerves and anxiety and… and the dark, heavy cloud that hung over me
whenever I thought too hard about how much I’d always let them down.

Except for this past week.

This past week, none of that had been there at all.

Of course, the minute my mother’s name flashed on the screen of my phone, it all came crashing
back down around me like a thousand-pound weight. I swallowed hard, staring at my phone as it
vibrated on the counter like it was a poisonous snake. My hands were a little wet and messy since I’d
been right in the middle of making a stir fry that I was hoping Tyson would like when he got home
later. I’d found the recipe on one of the healthy-eating blogs I’d started following back when I’d
realized that he always ate super healthy for his sports stuff, but I was kind of nervous about whether
he’d want any or not, because it had shrimp in it and I couldn’t remember if he’d ever said whether or
not he liked them.

For just a second, I had the shameful impulse to ignore my mother’s call. I knew that would only
get me in trouble, though, so I quickly rinsed and dried my hands and managed to catch it before she
hung up.

“Hello?” I said, putting it on speaker so I could keep making Tyson’s dinner while she talked. I
mean, it was supposed to be dinner for both of us, but I was pretty sure by the way my stomach was
already twisting into a knot that I wouldn’t be up to eating for a while.

“Sean,” Mother said, the hard snap of her voice cracking out of the speaker and making me cringe
even though she was three thousand miles away. “Is there something you’re attempting to hide from
your father and me?”

I clutched the edge of the counter, feeling faint for a second, but then realized that of course she
couldn’t know that I’d given in to what she called my “deviant impulses” with Tyson. But if not that, I
honestly wasn’t sure what she meant about hiding anything. I didn’t do anything else except school
stuff.

“Um, no?” I managed, swallowing hard as I stared blindly down at the pile of vegetables I’d been
chopping before she called. “W-W-Why would I hide anything, Mother?”

She made a disapproving noise, but I had no idea if that was because she hated how I stuttered
when I got nervous or because of whatever else she was fishing for.

“I have always wondered that myself, Sean,” she finally said. “But what else are we supposed to
think when you fail to report your academic progress as agreed upon?”

Oh. It was because I’d forgotten to call.

“I’m sorry,” I said, blinking fast when my eyes started to sting. It always felt awful to know I’d let
them down… even though it was basically all I ever seemed to do. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Excuses don’t correct errors,” Mother cut in, repeating something I’d heard enough times to have
known by heart already. “It’s been nine days since we last heard from you. Explain.”

I reached for the knife, wanting to be sure I had everything ready when Tyson got back. If he came
back. Every day, I half-expected him to stay out with his friends for the evening or tell me he was
busy or… or just not tell me anything and get back to his normal life. I was braced for it, or at least I
hoped I was, but so far, every time I’d been home from classes, he’d come home, too.

I swallowed, really hoping he would again tonight, too. Not that I could expect him to want to
hang out with me if I got all mopey and down about disappointing my parents again, of course, but if
he did come home, I could probably make myself forget about this phone call anyway. It was always
easier to focus on nicer things when he was around.

I kind of wished he was always around.

Was that selfish?

Probably.

“Did you fail a test?” Mother was asking, not really giving me time to answer as she launched
right into rattling off a whole bunch of guesses about how I might have messed up since the last time
we’d spoken. “Have your professors been dissatisfied with your performance, Sean? Did you
produce unsatisfactory lab results? Have you blemished your attendance record? I hope you haven’t
distracted yourself with extracurricular activities. Do I need to remind you that you’re there for
academics?”

“No, Mother,” I whispered, nicking the tip of my finger with the knife. I flinched at the sudden,
stinging pain, then quickly stuck it in my mouth so it wouldn’t bleed all over the vegetables. I looked
them over to make sure that hadn’t already happened, but they looked okay.

But maybe I should still rinse them again anyway?

“Please tell me you haven’t done anything to disappoint your father and me, Sean,” Mother said as

I took the cutting board to the sink real quick. Kind of awkward to rinse them all again one-handed,
but I managed.

“I hope not,” I answered Mother as I went back to the sink a second time to run my finger under
the cold water. That was probably a silly thing to say, though, because didn’t I always? I cleared my
throat. “I’ve… I’ve been trying to do my best here.”

I always tried to do my best. And even as distracted as I’d been this past week with Tyson, my
professors had still all had really nice things to say to me about my work. In fact, everyone here at the
college was super nice. Somehow I’d lucked into taking the right classes or something, because
everyone always seemed really happy with everything I did.

I kind of loved college.

“What’s that noise?” Mother asked sharply. “I can’t hear you well. I’d appreciate having your
attention when I take time to call, Sean.”

I turned off the water, wrapping a paper towel around my finger tightly to try to slow the bleeding.

“Sorry, Mother.”

She sighed heavily, and I could picture the expression on her face perfectly.

My stomach cramped.

“You know we never approved of sending you all the way across the country, and this
disrespectful behavior is certainly not reassuring. Your father and I have already been looking into
other choices for next year, especially if your final academic progress embarrasses us. I have to say
that if this is the kind of attitude you’re adopting over there, though, I really do think it might be best to
have you continue your studies closer to home, regardless of your grades.”

I froze.

Not… not come back for my sophomore year? I was already dreading having to return home for
the summer, and even though I knew I couldn’t expect to get Tyson as a roommate again next year, I
still didn’t want to… I would really rather… I’d been hoping that…

“Sean?” Mother snapped. “Did you hear me? I’ll be forwarding applications from several
universities your father and I approve of. Please complete them promptly.”

My blood was pounding in my ears, which I guess was why I hadn’t heard Tyson come in. One
minute I was all on my own and starting to feel like I was drowning, and the next he was suddenly just
there too, wrapping his arms around me from behind and pulling me back tight against him. “Hang up,
baby,” he growled in my ear.

“What was that?” Mother asked sharply.

I swallowed. “Um, I… I heard you, Mother,” I croaked out, my throat still feeling too tight to
make the words come out right even now, with the hard heat of Tyson’s body surrounding me like a
shield.

That shield was temporary, though, and next year… next year I wouldn’t have any hope of seeing
him at all, not once my parents made me change schools.

A horrible little sound escaped me before I could stop it, and all of a sudden Tyson spun me
around to face him, grabbing my shoulders as his eyes burned into me. “Who’s in charge here, Sean?”

he asked, keeping his voice low enough that Mother probably wouldn’t be able to make out the
words.

He looked so angry that I wanted to cry. “Y-Y-You are,” I managed, holding it in. Even though I’d
made him angry, his question settled me a little. He’d never exactly said so before, but he was in
charge, wasn’t he? And I wanted him to be. I’d miss it so much when he wasn’t around to tell me
what to do anymore.

My throat suddenly locked tight again. Oh my God, I’d have to leave him.

It was one thing to know that the special kind of attention he’d been giving me this week would
come to an end at some point, but to never see him again at all?

Not ever?

My eyes suddenly welled up with tears as the reality of that hit me and Tyson bit out a low,
vicious curse, wiping them off my cheeks as they started to fall.

“Sean Geoffrey Cabot.” Mother’s voice blared out of my phone’s speaker. She always used my
full name—and that tone—when she pointed out my failures. “Speak up. You’re mumbling. I know
you were raised better than that, so please act like it.”

Tyson glared over at my phone, then looked back at me, pinning me in place with his eyes as he
gripped my shoulders tight again. “I’m in charge, not her,” he hissed, low and angry. “Me. And what
did I just tell you to do, sweetheart?”

Hearing him call me that, even now, when he was mad, shocked me enough to dry up my tears.

He’d told me to… to....

“H-H-Hang up on her?” I whispered, my eyes wide. “But, Tyson—”

“Sean,” he growled, talking over something else Mother said that I totally missed. “Are you going
to do what I tell you to, or not?”

Yes.

Always.

At least, I wanted to, but...

“Please, baby,” he said softly, suddenly not looking mad at all. He cradled my face in his hands.

“Hang up. It will be okay, I promise.”

I really didn’t think it would be, but I reached over and ended the call anyway. It was one thing to
disappoint my parents. I didn’t like doing it, but I was used to it. But disappointing Tyson? I couldn’t
stand it.

That didn’t mean that hearing Mother’s voice cut off so abruptly didn’t terrify me, though.

“Oh my God,” I whispered into the sudden silence, my heart thundering as I started to shake.

“She’s going to be so mad. She’s going to kill me.”

Tyson’s eyes went all stormy and hard for a moment, then he closed them. When he opened them
again, he smiled. “You think I’d let that happen?” he asked, smoothing my hair back from my
forehead. “You just keep listening to me, sweetness. Me, not her. Be good for me like you always are.

Didn’t I promise to take care of you?”

I nodded. He was saying stuff like that a lot now. I mean, he’d always been super nice to me, ever
since we’d first moved in together, but lately, this past week…

I bit my lip hard, trying not to think about the future. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to go back
home, near my parents. Not even so much because of them, but because I didn’t want to go back to a
life that didn’t include Tyson looking at me like he was right now.

“If that bitch makes you cry one more time, I’m going to fucking lose it,” Tyson growled, wiping
away the fresh wave of tears that I would never in a million years tell him weren’t because of Mother
at all. “Whatever bullshit she was spewing at you before I came in, I want you to forget it, okay?

Whatever she said, she’s wrong. And what was that crap about applying to other schools, huh?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to have to talk about it. I didn’t even want to think about it, not yet.

Tyson leaned down to rest his forehead against mine. “She doesn’t deserve you,” he said without
making me answer him, then he lifted me up and sat me on the counter… right by the food, which
probably wasn’t very sanitary, but I didn’t care. Especially when he stepped in close, standing right
between my legs. “You’re too damn good for that fucked-up family you come from, baby, you know
that, right?” he said, grabbing onto my bottom and yanking me forward, right to the edge of the
counter.

And then he kissed me, which was always heaven. At least, the only kind I was interested in. I
wrapped my legs around his waist and forgot all about my mother and the stir fry and everything else
for a moment, and when Tyson finally ended it, he squeezed my bottom and leaned in even closer,
trailing hot kisses up my neck to my ear. “You were cooking, huh?” he whispered. “Making dinner for
me, sweetheart?”

I nodded, a cascade of excitement tumbling through me as his hot breath played over my skin.

“Always thinking of me, aren’t you?” he asked, sucking my earlobe into his mouth.

I…

It…

Oh my God.

I whimpered. What had he asked? I’d never known that ears were… that they… that it would feel
like...

Tyson bit down and I gasped, my pants suddenly too tight.

“So tasty,” he said, doing it again.

I cried out, thrusting myself against his body, and he squeezed my bottom tight, pulling back to grin
at me. “Did I say you could rub off on me, sugar? Because I don’t remember giving you permission to
use me as a fuck toy.”

“I’m… I’m… I’m sorry,” I panted, having trouble thinking clearly since he kept rocking me
against him despite what he’d said. The friction from his hard body was exciting my thing so much
that I couldn’t catch my breath, and I grabbed onto his arms, digging my fingers in as I tried to be good
and stop the fireworks from coming.

“What’s this?” he asked, pulling one of my hands off him with a frown. “You cut yourself, baby?”

He unwrapped the paper towel from my finger. “How about we get a Band-Aid on this, huh?”

“No,” I gasped, because that’s not what I needed. I didn’t care about my finger at all. “Please.

Just… just… you. I need you.”

His eyebrows went up, then he gave me a hot smile and lifted my hand, sucking the finger I’d cut
into his mouth with his eyes locked on mine.

I froze, mesmerized by the sight of his lips tightening around my finger. It wasn’t really bleeding
anymore, but it still stung the tiniest bit… and then Tyson swirled his tongue around it and smiled
without opening his mouth, and I squeezed my legs around his waist, thrusting against him again.

It was just my finger, but it felt like… it felt like…

I moaned, and he pulled my finger out of his mouth, shaking his head at me even though he kept
smiling. “So naughty,” he said. “Here I am trying to take care of you, and you go and do exactly what I
just told you not to. Are you trying to come in your pants?”

I shook my head, but then I nodded. I hadn’t meant to… but oh God, oh yes. I wanted to. I wanted
to bad.

I swallowed. “Please? May I, Tyson?”

Tyson groaned, leaning in to kiss me hard. Then, “Didn’t we just agree that I’m the one in
charge?”

I nodded, forcing myself to be still.

“And that means we do what I want, right, baby?”

“Yes,” I agreed, ignoring the throbbing desperation in my pants as another kind of pleasure rushed
through me. I wanted to do everything he wanted. It made ignoring my thing almost easy. I’d learned
how to ignore that kind of excitement a long time ago, and even better than how good it would have
felt if he’d let me keep rubbing on him—well, maybe not “even better,” but at least as good—was the
hope that he wanted me to do something for him.

Something to make him happy.

Something that would please him.

Something… something that, if I did it right, might make Tyson tell me I’d been good for him. I
loved being good for him. Every time he said so, it sent me to that lovely, floaty place that all his
praise took me. He’d asked if I wanted to come, and I did, but that other feeling—just knowing he
was happy with me—that was almost better.

Almost.

“What… what do you want to do, Tyson?” I asked, feeling breathless and hopeful and so, so
grateful that I hadn’t lost his interest yet.

It had been greedy and selfish of me to try and use him the way he’d chastised me about—rubbing
myself against him so shamelessly—and I wracked my brain for what I could do for him. Then I
remembered— duh—dinner. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and his muscles were all hard and
swollen like he’d just been working out, but instead of ogling how sexy that made him look, I should
have been thinking of how much work he’d just put in.

“Are… are you hungry?”

Tyson sucked his lower lip into his mouth, staring at me like I was dinner. “Yeah, baby,” he said
after a moment, something in his voice making the fireworks start up again. “I’m hungry. Fucking
starving, every single time I’m around you.”

I opened my mouth to ask him if the shrimp was okay or not, but before I could, he scooped me off
the counter and carried me out of the kitchen altogether.

7

T Y S ON

I WAS SERIOUSLY FUCKED, wasn’t I? Every day this week, I’d told myself to slow the fuck down on
this obsession with my roommate, and also every day this week, I’d paid zero attention to my own
advice and rushed home like a bitch in heat every damn time I knew he’d be there.

I was not B-word material and was definitely allergic to the R-word, too, but despite those two
stone-cold facts, it was like I’d been hit with some kind of alien mind power relationship-ray or some
shit, because suddenly whenever Brian or one of the guys hit me up to go out, my first thought was
whether it would mean missing out on Sean-time, what “we” had going on, and also—not gonna lie—
how fast I could get back to the dorms and get my cum on, in, or all over him.

I hadn’t even fucked him yet, which was some alien mind-control bullshit for sure.

Did I want to fuck him? Hell, yeah.

Did I plan on fucking him? So damn hard he’d feel me all the way into the next week.

But had I bent him over and made that shit happen yet, knowing that he’d let me in a heartbeat and
thank me before, during, and after once I finally did? No I had not, thank you very much. And why?

Because it was gonna be his first time—I was all his damn firsts, and I got off on that hard—and I
wanted it to be… to be special for him.

Jesus Fucking Christ on the cross. Who even was I?

But okay, I hadn’t totally lost my self-centered approach to getting my cock serviced. Not gonna
lie, part of why I hadn’t buried myself balls-deep inside Sean’s sweet temptation of an ass yet was
also because I wanted to fuck him bare. I wanted to feel all that tight heat of his grip my cock with
nothing blocking my own personal pleasure, and then I wanted to pump him so full of my cum that he
choked on it from the inside out. And so, despite a lifetime of making sure that no-strings sex also
meant no-nasty-surprises-afterward sex—in other words, I’d always suited up before diving in and
was pretty damn sure I had nothing to worry about—I’d even gone and gotten tested the other day…

because this was Sean, and he deserved better than “pretty damn sure.” He deserved all-the-way sure.

Yep, that was exactly the kind of sentimental bullshit that played through my head on a daily basis
now. If I wasn’t careful, next thing I knew I’d be bringing him chocolate and flowers and tattooing his
name over my heart or something. Bottom line? As stated, I was fucked and I knew it. And if I needed
any further proof, it was how I’d rushed home just now intending to grant him some more how-to-
deep-throat-my-monster-cock practice, but instead had walked in on his evil witch of a mother
making him look like he was about to puke so was now hauling him off like some kind of avenging
caveman who just wanted to wrap him up in a fuck-off-world forcefield where nothing could hurt him
again. I hadn’t even been thinking about the long-ass list of dirty things I still wanted to do with him
when I’d grabbed him off the kitchen counter, I just wanted to make him feel better.

I mean don’t get me wrong, I hadn’t totally been taken over by the alien mind-control ray. It
wasn’t like I planned on some kind of therapy session or a soothing foot massage or some other
bullshit like that—I fully intended to make him feel better with my cock—but just sayin’... all this
sappy romance shit wasn’t me.

Except that when it came to Sean, I guess it kind of was.

“Where… where are we going?” he asked me as I carried him back toward my bedroom, all
breathless and eager as always, arms and legs wrapped around me as he clung on like a sexy little
monkey.

“Is that up to you?” I asked, because it was hot as fuck the way we both knew it wasn’t.

And sure enough, his answer was one of those cock-hardening little hitches in his breath,
followed by a hot little moan and then another eager-and-breathless, “No, Tyson.”

His cock was stabbing a hole into my abs, so damn hard it had to be about ready to blow given
that he had such a hair-trigger cum reflex, and when he blinked at me with that same awestruck and
horny-as-hell look that had been on his face when I’d had his finger in my mouth flashed through my
mind, my plans to make him feel better with my cock suddenly flipped on their head. But first...

“Stay here,” I said in the you’d-better-obey-me voice I knew he loved as I dropped him onto my
bed.

“Okay,” he said, not questioning me at all.

I grinned, adjusting my cock as I turned and went to grab him a Band-Aid and some Neosporin
from the bathroom. Yeah, sucking on his finger had given me ideas, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t
serious about that promise I’d made him to take care of him, too.

And me, taking care of someone other than myself? I know, right? Fucking insanity… but with

Sean, I wanted to.

He was still waiting exactly where I’d left him when I got back, and no, I wasn’t going to think
too hard about the surge of satisfaction I felt just seeing him there on my bed, thank you very much. Up
until now I’d restrained myself from messing around with him in my room. In fact, come to think of it,

I wasn’t sure he’d ever been in here at all. Not saying it was some kind of sacred sanctuary or some
bullshit because I’d for sure fucked enough other guys in here, but with Sean, getting him in my bed
had danger written all over it. I’d already had to exercise epic levels of self-restraint not to insist he
sleep in here with me these past few nights, and even though it wasn’t my normal style because I sure
as fuck wasn’t a cuddler, that alien mind-control bullshit was real. It made me crave both the all-
night-access-pass that having him in my bed would give me to his hot little body, but also just… just
getting to wake up with him in my arms.

So yeah, so far I’d avoided bringing him anywhere near my bed since I was pretty sure once I got
him there I wouldn’t want him to leave again, but gotta admit, I wasn’t thinking about how close to the
edge of the danger zone I was sliding at the moment. I just needed to make sure he was taken care of
after that shit-fest of a phone call I’d walked in on.

Have I mentioned how much I fucking hated his mother? I legit couldn’t let myself think about how
she treated him right now though, or I’d start wanting to rage on something. But just sayin’, I
suspected that the whole fucked-up bullshit with his hand that he’d told me about wasn’t the only
abuse he’d ever suffered from her—physical or mental or emotional or all of the above—and when

I’d walked in and heard her voice on the phone and seen the effect it was having on him, I’d almost
lost my shit. I’d been that close to either giving her a piece of my mind or throwing his phone across
the room and ending the call for him, but even if I wasn’t here at school for academics, I was still
smart enough to know it wasn’t my fight.

Would I move heaven and earth to protect him from their fucked-up influence? Hell to the yes. But

I’d watched my own mom go through that kind of bullshit with the loser I didn’t bother to claim as a
father, and I knew firsthand that nothing would really end until Sean found it in him to tell them to fuck
off himself.

Well, himself plus maybe a little nudge from me.

He was so damn smart with school stuff, but so damn innocent and… and sheltered with
everything else, so while it may have been his fight, fuck if I was gonna let him go into battle on his
own.

“Damn, did you even move an inch?” I asked, sitting down on the bed next to him.

I already knew the answer, and sure enough, pretty little Sean shook his head as I grabbed his
hand, peeking up at me shyly with one of those please-tell-me-I-did-good smiles of his.

I could do that.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” I said, doctoring up his cut finger real quick.

“Always doing what I say. Love how good you are for me all the time, baby.”

He ducked his head down, but not before I saw how the praise made his smile turn fucking
radiant.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said once I finished, wiggling his bandaged finger a little as a
pretty pink blush spread across his face, that smile I was so fucking addicted to still hovering around
his mouth.

I tipped his chin up to face me and winked. “What did I tell you, sweetness?”

“Um,” he said, eyes going wide like he wasn’t quite sure what I meant.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” I reminded him before he could start to worry about not coming
up with the right answer.

Did I know my boy? Hell yeah, I did. And the flip side of that eager-to-please part of his
personality was some serious stress and anxiety whenever he thought he wasn’t doing what I wanted.

If I was a dick, it would mean I’d know just how to fuck with him… but even though I most definitely
could be a dick at times and might-have-I-mean-definitely-would-have gone there with anyone else
just for shits and giggles, there was no way I’d do that to sweet little Sean. Not ever.

“Now you gonna keep on being good for me and let me take care of you a little more?” I asked,
my cock impatiently reminding me that I hadn’t brought him back here just to play doctor.

“I always want to be good for you,” he said breathlessly, blinking those big baby blues at me as if
he couldn’t believe he even got the privilege.

I pulled him onto my lap and kissed him for that. Music to my ears no matter how many times I
heard it. And had I said I wasn’t a fan of kissing? Pretty sure the alien mind-control had warped that
for me, too. Nothing was sweeter than Sean’s mouth, and if my cock hadn’t needed some goddamn
relief from having waited all damn day to get close to him again, I probably could have kept right on
doing forever.

He moaned into my mouth, practically wrapping himself around me again, and kissing suddenly
wasn’t enough. “I want this shit off,” I growled, ripping my mouth off his and starting to strip him
down by taking his shirt off for him. “Been picturing you naked all day.”

Naked and panting for me.

Naked and choking on my cock again.

Naked and looking back at me over his shoulder while I plowed into that ass I couldn’t wait to
own.

I groaned, running my hand down all the smooth skin I’d just bared and popping the button on his
jeans open. I needed them gone now.

“You… you thought about me today?” he asked, lifting his hips to help me with that mission.

“Sean, seriously?” I asked, laughing at the total absurdity of the question as I finally got what I
wanted—all his clothes out of my fucking way—and laid him out on the bed for my viewing pleasure.

Fucking gorgeous.

“Did I think of you today?” I repeated, licking my lips as I watched his pretty little cock start to
drip precum onto his smooth stomach. It was so hard it was pointing straight up toward his belly
button, but instead of lying flat, it kept twitching and jerking, begging for attention.

For my attention.

“Do you honestly think there’s a single fucking day—” a single hour, “—that I don’t think about
you?”

“Um, I—” Sean started to answer.

I pushed his thighs apart and knelt between them. “That was rhetorical, baby,” I said before
leaning down to suck the smooth head of his cock into my mouth.

“Tyson,” Sean shouted, jackknifing up on the bed as his hands flailed for purchase. Then, those
pretty blue eyes of his fluttering closed as a look of pure, undiluted bliss spread over his face, he sank
back down with the sexiest fucking breathy sigh. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Jesus. I’d never get enough of his crazy-intense responsiveness. Practically all I had to do was
breathe on him and he’d be right on the verge of losing it. And right now? I was definitely doing more
than just breathing.

I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, lapping up the salty-sweet liquid that was
pouring out of him in a flood. His balls were so high and tight they had to be on the cusp of unloading

—and let’s be real, this was Sean, so of course they were—so even though his taste was just as
addictive as the rest of him, I popped off for a second to give him a quick reminder.

“I’m in charge of this pretty cock, sweetness.”

He nodded frantically, eyes still closed and hands clenched tight in my bedspread.

“And right now I want to play with it, you understand, sugar?”

“Yes, Tyson,” he said, panting as his whole body trembled in front of me. “Any… anything you
want.”

I grinned. So damn agreeable. “If you come, it won’t be as much fun to play with, got it, baby?

And you don’t want to disappoint me like that, do you?”

His eyes popped open, going wide as he stared down at me. “Never,” he breathed out, so damn
sincere that I almost wanted to stop everything and just kiss the shit out of him again.

Jesus, he was like… beautiful. Inside and out. Only a fucking monster would ever want to hurt
this boy. Why anyone who’d ever had the privilege of knowing him wouldn’t lov—uh, you know, treat
him right, was beyond me.

“Tyson?” he asked tentatively after a minute, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared down at me.

“Um, do you want me to—”

“Yeah,” I cut in, even though… what?

Oh.

Fuck.

I cleared my throat. I’d gotten lost in some kind of saptastic adoration-daze or some shit, but
enough with the heart-eye emoji impersonation. I pinned him with a stern look to get us back on track.

“No coming,” I said firmly, wrapping my index finger and thumb tightly around the base of his shaft in
an improvised cock ring to help out with that. “Not until I say so, got it?”

“Okay,” he said, his head bobbing up and down as his eyes went wide. “But are you… are you
really going to— eep!”

Fuck yeah, I was really going to. This time I didn’t fuck around with teasing his head either, I just
opened wide and hoovered him straight down to the root, pulling the single sexiest sound I’d ever
heard anywhere out of Sean’s throat.

I would’ve grinned, but hello, otherwise occupied here.

I kept my suction tight and slid him out a ways, then sucked him right back into my throat and
turned it into a hummer.

Sean sobbed, his body so tense he was practically vibrating as the prettiest things started coming
out of his mouth. Begging me to let him come. Promising to be good. Crying about how hard it was to
hold back but doing it anyway because I’d told him to. So damn sweet… but no fucking way was he
going to last.

And Jesus, hearing all that did things to me.

I legit couldn’t remember the last time I’d sucked cock. High school, maybe? Or middle school,
back when I’d first discovered that I wasn’t the only boy at football camp who liked dick? It had
definitely been sometime back before I’d realized that I much preferred shoving my own cock into a
willing hole than providing that service for anyone else, but just like riding a bike, it was a skill I
wasn’t likely to forget.

And just sayin’, I’d always been a star on the field, you know?

“Please please please,” Sean was chanting, hips twitching and jerking like he wanted to thrust
into my mouth but knew he shouldn’t.

Someday, maybe I’d let him. Someday, maybe I’d make him. And yeah, I said it. There was
definitely going to be a repeat of this BJ action in the future, because he was fucking delicious.

Had cock always tasted this good and I’d just forgotten, or was it just Sean?

I popped off for a moment. His sweet, desperate begging had been getting more and more frantic,
the words dissolving into nothing but hot, panting whimpers and needy little whines, and the tortured
look of pleasure on his face was almost enough to make me blow.

He was fucking amazing.

“Gonna let you come, sweetheart,” I said, my voice rough from the unfamiliar abuse my throat had
just taken as I tightened my grip on the base of his cock even more.

Yeah, I was going to let him, but when I said so. Every drop of his cum belonged to me.

Sean’s eyes opened slowly, like he was drugged, hands kneading the bedspread like a cat’s claws
and sweet little body quivering with need as he stared at me like my words weren’t making sense.

Then his lust cleared just enough for it to click.

“Th-th-thank you,” he whispered, his cock pulsing so hard within the circle of my finger and
thumb that I almost thought he was going to go off despite the restraint. “Um, now?” His breath started
coming faster, voice escalating. “Can I… ? Will you… will you let me? I need… need… oh God,
please, Tyson! Please say I can!”

Oh, fuck. Those big eyes and all that submissive desperation… I was fucking gone for him, wasn’t

I?

“Yeah, baby,” I said hoarsely, loosening my hold just enough to slide the ring of my fingers up his
cock… then back down… then up again… and— “Be good and come for me.”

The moment the words left my mouth, his back bowed off the bed and his mouth fell open and his
cock went off like a fucking cannon, pumping out thick white ropes that painted his gorgeous little
body and splattered over his skin like art.

I stroked him right through it, milking more and more and more out of him like a fucking addict.

Watching him felt like getting off myself, and I was so damn enraptured with the way he’d come apart
for me that at first I didn’t even notice—I shit you not, did not have a clue—that I actually had.

Yep, you heard right. My own cock had gone off, too, completely hands-free. I’d filled my pants
just like I really was still in middle school and I didn’t even care, not once Sean finally started
coming down from the high and opened his eyes, looking up at me like I was God’s gift and giving me
one of those angelic smiles of his that I’d walk through fire for.

“Was that… was that okay?” he asked, all glowy and gorgeous and shit.

“Yeah, baby,” I said, wrapping him up in my arms where he belonged, cum and all. “That was
perfect.”

He was perfect.

And I should really be more freaked out about how completely the alien mind-control ray had
taken me over, shouldn’t I? But fuck that. I’d never spent so much time with a guy I wanted to fuck
without actually fucking him before, but here I’d spent the whole damn school year telling myself I
couldn’t have Sean while the entire time, all that unrelenting sweetness of his had been worming its
way under my skin and wrapping tight around my heart. And now that my cock was finally getting in
on the action? Yeah, no. There was no way I was gonna get scared off or let him go, not for anything
and no matter what you wanted to call it.

Even the B-word.

Even if I’d crossed the line into R-word territory.

Even if all these feelings and whatnot really were part of an alien conspiracy.

None of that mattered, not as long as I got to call Sean mine.

8

T Y S ON

“DUDE, could we not have done this on the treadmill at the gym?” Brian whined like a little bitch,
tugging his sweat-soaked shirt off as we got back to the dorms after our run. “It’s fucking May
already. Too fucking hot to be running outdoors unless we do it at the ass-crack of dawn.”

“The ass-crack of dawn is reserved for lifting,” I reminded him, pulling my own shirt off over my
head because I was drenched, too. Brian was right about it being too damn hot. Thanks a lot, climate
change. For real, though, the last couple of miles had sucked balls. “You know if we don’t keep up
with cardio, it’s gonna be an issue when summer practices start up,” I reminded him. Then, having
mercy because I was generous like that and he lived off-campus, “Come on up and get some

Gatorade.”

“You going home when school’s out?” Brian asked, following me up.

We’d have maybe a month or so after classes officially ended before we had to report back for
summer football practice to gear up for the next season. Given that my mom lived a few states away
and had her own shit to deal with, though, I hadn’t been planning on it. “Nah,” I said. “Figured I’d just
couch surf until I get another dorm assignment.”

I frowned, slinging my t-shirt over my shoulder to get the door open. It was true, but also true was
that I hadn’t really been thinking that far ahead lately, too caught up in my Sean-obsession to worry
about that shit. And not that “worry about” was appropriate, because I knew for sure I wouldn’t have
any trouble finding a place to crash, but now that Brian’s question was focusing my attention on the
issue, I realized that there was a flaw in my plan: it didn’t include Sean.

What was he planning on doing for the summer? And how the fuck did I not know the answer to
that?

“Did you even hear me, Tyson?” Brian asked, flicking me with his nasty t-shirt as I beelined for
the kitchen.

“Jesus,” I snapped, jumping back. “Gross, bro.”

He laughed. “Don’t blame me. You were the one who zoned the fuck out. So are you interested or
not?”

“In?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “The house.”

I pulled the fridge open, grabbing two bottles of Gatorade and grinning a little at how well
stocked it was. Sean was always on top of that shit, and he’d memorized my preferences within the
first week we’d lived together.

Brian was right, though. I’d totally missed whatever he’d said about a house. I had no idea what
he was talking about. I tossed him one of the bottles, leaving the fridge door open for a moment of
blessed relief, and said so.

Brian rolled his eyes. “I said a couple of the guys have made other living arrangements. So why
don’t you take one of the rooms? Doesn’t cost any more than the dorms if we fill all the rooms, and
doesn’t your full ride here include housing?”

“Yep,” I said, pausing with the bottle halfway to my mouth while I thought about it. He’d offered
last year, too, but crowding in with half a dozen guys wasn’t really my style. Pretty fucking glad I’d
turned it down, too, given how it had all turned out with Sean… but for next year? “I’ll think about
it,” I said, glancing at the clock. Sean should be back from his last class soon and I was gonna have to
find out what his plans were.

“Well, don’t think too long,” Brian said, smirking at me. “You know it’s a sweet house and if other
people snag those rooms over the summer, there’s no way they’ll let them go once classes start up
again next fall.”

“I’ll let you know,” I said as the sound of the door announced Sean’s arrival. I downed the rest of
my drink. “Gotta hop in the shower. You about done with that?”

Brian laughed. “You trying to get rid of me or something?”

Hell to the yes.

“’Course not,” I lied, watching the doorway over Brian’s shoulder for my boy. He always turned
into a shy little mouse whenever I had anyone over—I mean, even more so than usual—and… yep.

Sure enough, there he went trying to scamper past the kitchen and down the hall to his room with
barely a glance inside. I grinned, calling out, “What, I don’t get a hello?”

Sean stopped in his tracks, turning bright pink as he swiveled to face me. “Um, hi,” he said, biting
that lickable lower lip of his as his eyes darted between me and Brian for a second and then shot right
back to me, his breath doing that sexy hitch as he took in my shirtless state.

My grin spread even wider. I was no stranger to an admiring glance, but not gonna lie, the way
sweet little Sean was so damn enraptured by the view definitely made the suckitude of the run I’d just
endured totally worth it.

I licked my lips, already craving a taste of his. “Pretty sure you can do better than that, baby,” I
said, forgetting we weren’t alone until Brian snorted back a laugh.

“Sprung,” he coughed into his hand, looking way too fucking smug about it.

“Fuck off,” I said, wanting him gone already so I could get my hands on my boy. Sean was frozen
in the doorway when he should be in my arms already, and I shot Brian a glare. “Weren’t you about to
head out?”

He laughed, the fucker. “Nope,” he said, taking another swig of his Gatorade. “I was about to
remind you that we’re headed downtown tomorrow night to celebrate my birthday.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

I laughed. “You ‘celebrate’ all the fucking time, bro,” I reminded him. Sure, he was just about to
turn twenty-one, but we both knew enough people at some of the clubs downtown that we’d been
getting into pretty much anywhere we wanted ever since our freshman year. I mean, guess it didn’t
hurt that we’d both been big enough to look legal even back then, not to mention that starting on a
winning team every year opened more than a few doors all on its own.

Was it fair? Who gave a fuck. Use what you got, right?

“Dude, no,” Brian said as I pushed away from the counter I’d been leaning against because I was
sick of waiting for Sean to come to me. I headed over and snagged his hand as Brian went on, “You’re
not getting out of this. It’s been fucking weeks since you’ve come out with us, Ty.”

He was right, but why the fuck would I want to go anywhere when I had what I wanted right here?

And yeah, I said that. Pretty sure we’d already established that I didn’t even fucking recognize myself
anymore, right? Still, Brian was only gonna turn twenty-one once, and back when I had, he’d gotten
me wasted enough that I should probably return the favor.

“What do you think, sweetness?” I said to Sean, tugging him against me because when it came to
touching him I really was an addict, and I gave exactly zero shits whether or not Brian caught on to
that fact.

Of course, if I hadn’t been such a selfish bastard I wouldn’t have touched Sean until after I’d had
that shower, but no matter how sprung I may or may not have been, there was no doubt that I was and
always would be someone who was gonna put getting what I wanted first on the priority list. Besides,
the way my boy was looking at me, I didn’t think he minded a little sweat, you know? And by “didn’t
mind,” I meant “was getting turned-the-fuck-on by.” In fact, the way Sean couldn’t seem to take his
eyes off my chest, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he started begging me to touch that pretty little cock
of his the minute I managed to kick Brian out.

Which was motivating as fuck, not gonna lie.

I tipped his chin up. The sooner we gave Brian an answer, the sooner he’d fuck off. “I asked you a
question, babe.”

“Yeah,” Sean said with zero actual comprehension as his eyes slid right back down my body like
a stripper on a pole.

I squeezed his ass to get his attention and his gaze bounced back up to mine, a dazed-and-ready-
to-beg look on his face that made me want to push him to his knees and refresh my memory on how
damn good he was getting with that pretty mouth of his. “What did I say about answering me, sugar?”

He blinked. “Um, sorry. What did you… did you ask me again, Tyson?”

Jesus, breathless-and-eager was turning into my cock’s own personal brand of Viagra. Not that I’d
ever needed any help like that, of course, but with Sean? I was locked and loaded the minute he
turned those baby blues on me, every single time.

Brian laughed, reminding me that the reason I didn’t already have my boy naked was that the
fucker was still here. “Shit, Ty,” he said. “Say yes about moving in, yeah? Then talk your little roomie
into coming, too. You two are like live-action jerk material.”

I flipped him off without bothering to turn around. “Asked what you thought about tomorrow night,
sugar,” I answered Sean, even though I should probably just go back to the tell-don’t-ask method that
worked so well for the both of us. “Brian wants to go clubbing.”

Brian laughed again. “Aw, that’s cute. Ty-Ty is checking to see if he has permission to come out
and play.”

Sean turned red. “H-H-He doesn’t need my p-p-p-permission,” he whispered, looking mortified
at the attention.

I whirled on Brian, tucking my boy against my side. “Would you please fuck the hell off now?”

Brian held up his hands, still giving me a shit-eating grin. “What? Just calling it like I see it. Did
you or did you not just ask if you could—”

“Not,” I interrupted.

Brian barreled on. “Because it sounded to me like you needed to make sure your little boyfriend
would let you—”

“What I need to do,” I cut in, my patience for being fucked with about done. “Is make sure my
boyfriend—” yeah, I’d just said that, “—is down with the plan. It’s called fucking courtesy, Brian.

Maybe you’ve heard of it? Making sure he doesn’t have something else going on, you know?”

Which of course he didn’t.

Also, Jesus. I’d just said that. Brian rattled off some other bullshit designed to get a rise out of
me, but I ignored it, bracing myself for the impending B-word freak-out. But then I heard a squeak,
that fucking adorable sound Sean always made when he got excited, and I forgot about freaking out
and grinned down at him. “What?”

“I’m your boyfriend?”

“Hell yeah, you are.” I wasn’t gonna ask. This was just a fact. “You okay with that, babe?”

Oh, guess I was gonna ask after all. Fucking alien mind-control.

Sean bit his lip, his eyes shining. “If you’re sure you really want me to be.”

I heard a gagging sound and Brian made some noise about needing to escape before he got
diabetes or some shit, but I ignored him.

“’Course I’m sure,” I said... which I should have followed up with something about what a hot
little lay he was if I wanted any hope at all of holding onto my manwhore crown. “I want you to be my
everything, sweetheart.”

Oops. I should be the one gagging now. Instead, I accidentally kissed him… for long enough that

Brian really did leave. Then I dragged Sean into the shower with me and got us both clean.

But only after some quality time spent getting hella dirty, first.

9

S E A N

I WAS HAVING the best dream ever. All the anxiety I’d been feeling about avoiding my parents’

increasingly upset phone calls over the last few weeks—not to mention the horrible fact that the
school year was almost over and they’d make me leave soon—was gone. In my dream, none of that
could touch me. Nothing could get at me, I could barely move, because Tyson’s heavy weight had me
pinned down and safe.

But not just safe… him touching me, just him being near me, always made me feel all sorts of
other things, too. Naughty things. He made my thing so hard it ached, and even while I was asleep,
just dreaming about having him hold me so close made the hot, heavy hum of all that shameful
excitement start to skitter down my spine and pool in my belly, low and deep.

Oh, God. I’d gone years without letting myself feel that sort of thing—at least, not very often, not
if I could help it—but now, with Tyson, it was like my thing wanted to make up for lost time or
something.

I was always hard lately.

Always wishing he would touch me.

Always desperate to feel that intoxicating rush that wiped everything else away when he played
with my thing and made me come; always craving the fireworks that left such a shameful mess when
they exploded but took all my worries with them, too. When Tyson made me come, that feeling
replaced everything bad with something so, so much better; something Tyson wanted, which meant I
never had to feel bad about it at all.

His arms tightened around me even more and I sank into the warm, syrupy goodness of the dream,
because dreams were so nice that way. A place you could have anything you wanted.

The sleepy, sexy sound of his voice wrapped around me—no words that made any sense, just him

—and it almost pulled me out of the delicious dream. I held onto it tight though, not ready to wake up
even though real life had been so good lately it almost felt like that was a dream, too. Still, I wanted
to stay asleep. Wanted to selfishly imagine that Tyson was saying everything I secretly wanted to hear.

That he really believed all those nice things he was always saying to me.

That I’d made him so happy he didn’t need anyone else, maybe not ever.

That he wanted to keep me— me— which was hard to believe even when I was dreaming but
which almost sometimes sort of felt like it really could be true, because he hadn’t brought anyone else
around for a long time, not since the first time he’d touched me. And earlier, he’d said… he’d said…

he’d said I was his boyfriend.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” dream-Tyson murmured, big hands roaming over my body as if he
knew it belonged to him.

Someone moaned.

Was it me?

Those huge, rough hands of his slid over my chest, stroking and rubbing and sparking fireworks
when they grazed my nipples; fireworks that shot straight down to my thing... and this time, it was
definitely me who moaned. I was shameless, but it didn’t matter since I was still dreaming and didn’t
have to feel guilty or anxious about a thing. And that freedom? I was clinging onto that with everything

I had, determined to do everything I could not to wake up, not until… until everything peaked.

And oh, God. I needed to… to peak.

I needed friction.

I needed it bad.

My thing was swollen and pulsing and so hard that it was dripping out of the tip. Not dream-
dripping, but for-real dripping—no matter how stubbornly I was holding onto sleep, I could still feel
it getting all slick and wet and starting to make a mess in my sheets—but since I was dreaming, there
was no guilt about that, none of the nauseating nastiness in my stomach that I usually got whenever I
became hard down there. That sick, ugly feeling never happened when Tyson was around to take
charge of it for me, but dreaming was the next best thing because it meant I could rub myself against
the mattress and no one would ever know, not if I cleaned it up afterward.

I squirmed, trying to move in a way that would give me something to rub against, but I was locked
tight against Tyson’s hard body behind me and couldn’t. His firm hold was wonderful and maddening
at the same time, and I squeezed my thighs together as tight as I could—squeezing my bottom, too,
which always gave me a little jolt of stolen pleasure—then thrust my hips anyway because I just
couldn’t hold still.

My shaft rubbed against the frustratingly too-light weight of a blanket.

It wasn’t enough.

I kept trying anyway, twitching and moaning in frustration as the good-but-not-good-enough feel of
it teased my thing, the blanket sliding against my tip and tangling around my length, making me crazy.

“Always so horny,” Tyson murmured, which should have made me feel guilty except it was true
and he liked it, I knew he did, so all those words did was make my problem even worse. Because he
was right—he was always right—I was so, so horny.

I clutched Tyson’s thick arms, his skin so hot under my palms that it almost felt real, and tried to
push them down to make him touch me where I needed it.

I couldn’t budge them.

Shouldn’t I be able to?

Shouldn’t my dream let me have everything I wanted?

Nothing worked that way though, not even in dreams, I knew that, and the more I squirmed, the
more Tyson’s arms tightened around me, holding me in place.

“Please,” I moaned, squirming. Because maybe if I asked nicely?

Hot breath played over my neck as a low, sexy laugh vibrated through the hard body behind me.

“You having a good dream, baby?”

Yes. But it was so good that I needed relief.

Then those strong, callused hands of his started moving over my body again, the feel of his touch
so good that I forgot to be frustrated... except that he was touching me everywhere but where I needed
it most. He was avoiding my thing like it didn’t even exist. I could feel his though, pressing against
me from behind and making me feel so greedy I could have cried.

I wanted it.

I always wanted it.

Why was he being so mean?

I whimpered, rolling my hips even more shamelessly as I twisted and squirmed in his hold, not to
get away— never—but in a desperate attempt to push my thing against something… anything… the
bed… his body… anything. But maybe the reason I couldn’t get any relief in my dream was because
even asleep, a part of me knew that I shouldn’t. That it was always so much better when Tyson
decided what I needed and what I’d get. Then, whatever happened with my thing, it wasn’t me, it was
him. I didn’t have to feel guilty because he was in charge and he always made me feel so good,
always touched me the way I wasn’t allowed to touch myself. He touched me in new ways, too; ways
that were dirty and wicked and made me want to beg him to never, ever stop. Like right now, when it
all felt so real… so exciting… so frustrating… so… so…

Another low laugh cut through the dirty soundtrack of low moans and panting desperation around
us.

Me again?

Probably.

“Fuck, baby. You’re getting desperate, aren’t you? You’d better be dreaming of me, sweetness.”

Of course I was. I always was.

“Tyson,” I whined, wondering why he was torturing me in my dreams when he was always so
good to me in real life. “Please.”

I needed him and I was greedy and I wanted more.

“Killing me,” he muttered, rolling me onto my stomach.

I gasped, my eyes flying open in the dark as he rolled right along with me, pinning me down. He
braced those strong arms of his on either side of me and blanketed me from shoulder to ankles with
his hard body, holding me in place.

Oh, God.

This wasn’t a dream at all.

Tyson’s thick shaft—rock hard and hot as sin the way it always got when I was pleasing him—
pressed against the backs of my thighs, inescapably real, and my face was smooshed right into a
pillow that smelled exactly like him… because I wasn’t in my bed, I was in his, and it was so, so
much better than a dirty dream, because it meant that Tyson was really here, too.

And even better—well, not “better,” but still ohmygodthankgod—I could finally push my thing
against the mattress like I so desperately needed. I could finally get some pressure against it.

Something to rub against. Something to… to…

“You’re so hot for it, aren’t you, baby?” Tyson whispered in my ear. “Got yourself all worked up,
moaning and begging for it in your sleep. You need to come so bad right now, don’t you, dirty boy?”

“Y-y-yes,” I stuttered out, gasping with pleasure as my hips started moving all on their own,
rocking against the bed as much as I could… which wasn’t much, not with all Tyson’s weight on top
of me.

But it still felt good.

So, so good.

So incredibly good that I was going to… I was close to getting… I just needed… I needed...

All of a sudden I realized what I was doing, how shameless I was being, and went still, anxiety
flooding through me. Oh, God. What must Tyson think of me? Would he… would he be mad? He’d
called me a dirty boy, and I was. He liked me to be good, though. He liked—

“Oh, hell no. Don’t stop now,” he said, voice all deliciously growly as he cut through all my
anxious thoughts and pulled me back to him.

He shifted his weight so he could grab onto my hip, forcing me to roll my thing against the bed
again, and— ohgodohgodohgod—it felt so good, even better than when I just did it myself. It wasn’t
just the friction I needed so bad, though, it was everything. Tyson. Just… him.

I loved being held in place and the sexy, secure feeling of having him on top of me.

I loved it when he took over and took charge; when he made me do the dirty things I shouldn’t;
when he made it okay to do them, because it could never be wrong to do what he wanted when
pleasing him felt so right.

And I loved him—of course I did and I had for so long, even before he’d ever noticed me like this

—but I knew that loving him didn’t mean I got to hold onto him, so I wasn’t going to let myself think
too hard about it right now, not when everything else was so close to perfect and leaving him the way

I’d have to soon was probably going to break my heart.

Instead, I dug my fingers into the mattress, sobbing a little because the good feelings were rushing
through me so fast as he pushed my hips against it, over and over—my thing was throbbing and I was
already so close to making a mess I didn’t know if I could stand it—and then, even when he stopped
rolling me forward, I kept going. I humped against the bed even harder, even faster, chasing what I
needed because I needed it desperately.

“That’s it,” Tyson growled in my ear. “Show me, baby. Fuck my mattress with that eager little
dick of yours. Let me see exactly how you do it when you’re all alone and know you’re being bad.”

“Tyson,” I gasped, a hot, dizzying mix of embarrassment and excitement rocking through me. He
was right. I did know it was bad—so perfectly, deliciously bad—and hearing him say it like that, like
being bad was good, almost made me explode right there.

“Right here, baby,” he said, matching my movement by rolling his hips against my bottom.

Oh my… God. His thick shaft flexed so that the head bumped against my sac from behind and I
gasped at the spike of pleasure it sent rocketing through me. I tightened my thighs around him, wanting
more and forgetting to censor myself as words tumbled out of me. “More. God. Please! Don’t stop,

Tyson. Don’t… don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Except I was the one who would have to leave, in just a few weeks.

“Not going anywhere, sweetness,” he promised with a low, rumbling laugh. And then, his voice
laced with heat, “Now show me how you get yourself off when you’re thinking of me, Sean. I want to
see just how dirty you are, baby. All those times you were alone in the middle of the night, grinding
yourself against your mattress and wishing I was there to do it for you.”

I trembled, my whole body wracked with the need to be good for him and do it because he’d told
me to… but oh, God. I… I couldn’t. Not when he spelled it out like that and made me think about just
how bad I’d really been.

What if he thought I was too dirty?

I whimpered, shaking my head ever so slightly.

Tyson rolled his hips on top of me again, pressing the head of his shaft even more firmly between
my legs, stabbing it right up behind my sac and hitting that spot again that… that… oh my… God. He
did it again, and fireworks exploded behind my eyes.

“I know you didn’t just try to say no, did you, baby?” he whispered, his voice filtering slowly to
my brain through a haze of arousal that made it hard to think. “I know you want to be good. You want
to give me whatever I want, don’t you? Do whatever I tell you to?”

“Yessssssssss,” I moaned, grinding my hips into the mattress again because his words… the
weight of him… the hot, sexy feelings he woke up inside me… all of them rolled over my worries
and obliterated them until the only thing that existed was my need to please him.

Well, that and how bad I needed this.

And, best of all, Tyson’s voice going on and on as I worked my thing against his bed, telling me to
do it, that I had to do it, because he wanted me to.

“That’s right,” he said, rocking his body on top of mine as I started to hump the bed in earnest, his
voice getting all sexy-low and egging me on even faster. “Just like that, baby. So fucking hot. Use my
bed like a fuck toy. You woke me up and got me all hot and bothered, and now you’re gonna make it
up to me by letting me watch you give that little cock of yours exactly what it’s begging for, aren’t
you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, because… because yes.

“So fucking good for me,” Tyson whispered, his breath starting to come hard and fast, too. “That’s
it. Keep going, baby.”

I moaned again, and Tyson flattened himself on top of me, pinning me with all his weight again so

I could barely move. “You like that?” he whispered right into my ear. “You’re always so good for me,
pretty thing, but I think you like putting on a show, don’t you? You like getting dirty on my bed like the
bad little boy you secretly want to be, right, baby?”

I… I… I couldn’t think. Yes. I liked all of it. I liked everything, anything, whatever would make
him keep saying things like—

“So perfect for me,” he said. “God, Sean, you’re so fucking perfect.”

—like that.

The praise filled me with a warm haze of pleasure that was almost better than coming.

“This time, I’m gonna watch, baby,” he said, lifting himself off me and nudging my thighs apart.

He knelt between them, his hands on my bottom, and pulled my cheeks wide, exposing all of me. “I’m
gonna watch, because you’re hot as fuck like this, and then I’m going to come all over you.”

He ran his fingers down the center of my crease, right over the most hidden part of me, that tight
little hole that no one had ever touched before, and I gasped, a delicious shudder moving through my
body as it quivered under his touch.

“I want to see my cum right here, right on your hot little hole,” he muttered, his voice sounding as
thick as that warm syrup his words sent through me. “I’ve been fucking dreaming about it.” He
squeezed my cheeks again, kneading and lifting them and making me crazy. “This ass, Jesus. So
fucking perfect. I want it.”

“It’s… it’s yours,” I said, because of course it was.

“Yeah,” he whispered, pulling my cheeks apart again to touch me in the center. It should have felt
dirty and wrong all exposed like that but which, oh God—so, so didn’t.

Nothing felt wrong with Tyson. Not when he was in charge.

Then he did it again, circling and tapping and then pressing against my hole until I was
squirming… panting… until heat was flooding through me in tingling waves and I couldn’t stand it.

I wanted him to keep touching me there forever.

I wanted him to do even more.

I wanted him to push his fingers all the way inside me. He’d already claimed my thing as his own,
but I wanted him to own all of me. I wanted him to use that little hole for his pleasure; wanted him to
bury his thick, hard shaft as deep as it could go. I wanted to feel him inside me, wanted him to shove
it in as far as he could, the way he liked to do with my mouth; wanted him to pound me into the
mattress until I couldn’t think anymore; to fill me up so full that I overflowed and became his
completely… always… forever.

I was greedy.

I wanted him to do all of it, to do it dirty and messy and hard and fast, and I wanted it
desperately. But he’d already told me what he wanted, so I knew I wasn’t going to get it. Not this
time. Still, I couldn’t seem to stop the words that tumbled out of my mouth.

“Please please please,” I begged when he stopped playing with my hole, pushing it back toward
him desperately.

He spanked me once, the sting making me gasp and then moan at the delicious heat it shot through
me, then pushed me down against the bed again, giving my thing the friction it craved.

“Be good,” he murmured. And then, when I started humping the bed again the way I knew he
wanted me to, “Yeah, baby. That’s it. Show me.”

His voice was all raspy and sexy the way it got when I sucked him… when he came on me…

when he used my body to rub himself all the way to completion or held both our things together and
stroked and stroked and stroked them, and I forgot all about being greedy for other things and
clenched my hands in the bed sheets, gasping against his pillow as I ground myself shamelessly into
the mattress, my body taking over like I had no say in it whatsoever as I pushed myself to give him
what he wanted. What I wanted, too. What I needed… so bad I was practically sobbing as I chased it.

“God, you’re so fucking hot for it, Sean,” Tyson groaned, grabbing onto my bottom again to make
me move even faster. “Do it. Fuck that little cock right into my bed. Do it for me. Let me see you get
yourself off, baby. I want you to soak this fucking mattress with your cum.”

Oh, God. Yes. I’d do anything for him. Anything to make him happy.

“Tyson,” I moaned, my fingers flexing for purchase. “Tyson, Tyson, Tyson.”

I was so hard and it felt so good, even better than usual because he was here this time… he was
watching me… he wanted to see and he always made it so easy to give him what he wanted, and he
wanted this, and it felt so good… sooooooo good...

“Fuck, I can’t stand it,” he muttered, squeezing me again. “This ass. Look at you.”

I ground my face into the pillow and breathed in his scent and humped against his sheets
desperately, and all that coiling tension, that overwhelming heat and need and shameful, dirty
excitement, was building so fast inside me that even when he took his hands away, I still couldn’t
stop.

Behind me, I heard him spit, and then the slick, rhythmic sound that told me he was stroking
himself while he watched.

I groaned, my whole body shuddering with desire. I wanted to see. He was so sexy when he did
that, but oh God, I couldn’t… couldn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop rocking into his mattress. Couldn’t
stop thrusting my thing against it even when the friction became too much… when it started to burn
and rub but still wasn’t enough, was driving me closer and closer and closer but oh, God, I still
needed more, I needed… needed…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful like this, sugar,” Tyson whispered behind me, one big hand coming
to rest on my bottom as the sound of his hand on himself sped up. He spread me wide open again,
exposing my hole, and I knew he could see it clearly now because the room was getting just light
enough that I had to be fully on display for him. “Fucking beautiful.”

I whimpered, moaning into the pillow as my hips ground desperately against the bed. His words
made everything feel even better. I was being so bad, but it was for him and that made me shameless

—made me revel in it—because he wanted it.

“You know what I’m doing right now, baby?” Tyson asked, his thumb moving over my hole again
as his words started to get choppy and ragged. “I’m… I’m watching you, Sean. You made me so
fucking hard... I just had… had to touch myself, didn’t I? Love how fucking needy you are all the time.

How desperate for it you get, baby.”

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t stop.

I was his and he liked it and ohgodohgodohgod I was so close.

Tyson kept rubbing his thumb over me, groaning as he panted out all those nasty words that felt so
good.

“Look at you, dirty boy. You’re about to make a mess on my bed, aren’t you? You’re so fucking
bad, sweetheart. Such a… such a naughty boy. Fucking Christ. You’re gonna make me unload right on
your tight little hole the way you’re going at it.”

Hearing how excited he was, how hard he was breathing, almost felt better than the tsunami-like
wave of pleasure cresting inside me.

Almost.

“I’m gonna shoot all over you,” Tyson promised, voice all growly and deep as the sound of his
stroking became a steady whir. “Gonna watch my cum drip right down your sweet little crack. You
want that, baby? You want… want to feel my cum on you again? Want it right on this little hole you
keep teasing me with?”

“Yes,” I sobbed just as he pressed against it. And then my whole world went white, all that dirty,
shameful, delicious pleasure he’d built up inside me exploding out of me at once. “Tyson.”

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered as I clutched at the bed and ground my thing into it, coming and coming
and coming until it felt like I was swimming in my own mess... then floating... then adrift, all warm
and syrupy and never wanting to move again ever.

Tyson made me feel so good.

Heaven would be staying right here, with him, forever.

“Fucking Christ, Sean,” he groaned, bracing his arms on either side of me again as he dragged his
thick rod through my crack. “You make me crazy, baby.”

He did it again, the tip nudging at my hole.

“Please,” I whispered, pushing my bottom up toward him.

Would he do it?

Did he really want it, like he said?

Would he make it his, make me his, the way I so desperately wanted him to?

“Pure fucking temptation,” he muttered. But then he was stroking himself again, right there, right
over my hole. I could feel his hand moving and his body hovering over me and his hot, panting
skittering over my back as he did it.

Faster.

Faster.

“This is… my hole,” he gritted out, panting. “My… fucking… ass. It… belongs to... me, Sean,
right? You’re mine. You’re my— fuuuuuuucccckkk.”

Hot cum splattered over me, right where I was most sensitive, and I moaned, reaching back to
spread my own cheeks for him and get more of it… more… all of it.

I wanted everything he’d give me, for as long as I could get it.

Well, I secretly wanted it for longer than that, but since that wasn’t just greedy but also
impossible, I’d remember to be grateful for what I had. And when Tyson used his thick shaft to rub his
cum into my crack, making me feel even dirtier in all the most naughty, delicious ways... when he
collapsed on top of me and held me close and whispered more of those too-nice, I’d-never-get-
enough things about how happy he was with me... when he cleaned us both up and then crowded into
my little bed with me because his was dirty now and it was all my fault… when he held me tight
enough that I couldn’t move again and told me I had to go back to sleep because it was a Saturday and

“too fucking early,” making me feel cherished and protected and like even the things I did wrong were
still all right, were good even, it was easy to be grateful for all of that.

The hard part would come later, when I lost it.

But then Tyson laughed and squeezed me against him even tighter, kissing the back of my neck as
he told me to stop thinking so hard and go to sleep already... so I did, because doing what he told me
was always so much nicer than worrying about things I couldn’t change anyway.

And it was definitely nicer than thinking about how much I was going to miss him when I finally
had to leave.

1 0

T Y S ON

I GLARED at the back of the Lyft driver’s head and tugged Sean closer against my side, irritated as fuck
because I was stuck in the backseat of a stranger’s car with a raging hard-on and a willing boy and no
fucking privacy to do anything about it. What I should have done was just tell Brian we’d meet him at
the club.

Oh wait, that’s right… I did.

“There a problem back there, Ty?” Brian asked, shifting around in the passenger seat to shoot me
a shit-eating grin.

“Nope,” I bit out, being generous and leaving it at that because it was his birthday and all.

The fucker had shown up on my doorstep without even a heads-up text ten minutes ago, apparently
under the delusion that if he didn’t drag my ass to the club in person, I’d end up distracted by pretty
little Sean and fail to make it out of the house at all.

Which, okay, to be fair, had been well on its way to happening.

I tugged Sean closer, which basically put him on my lap.

Torture… the best kind.

But still—

“Fuck,” I grumbled, the sexual frustration pissing me off all over again because no matter how
good his sweet little ass felt rubbing against me, it just couldn’t compare to the straight-up ecstasy I’d
been experiencing eleven minutes ago, when he’d been staring up at me adoringly out of the world’s
most gorgeous pair of blue eyes, his mouth stuffed full of cock and under the impression—just like I’d
been—that he’d also be getting a mouth stuffed with my cum soon.

“I don’t think your boyfriend has the right attitude for tonight, Sean,” Brian said, smirking. “Any
ideas on what’s got him so cranky?”

Sean’s eyes went wide, the fluttery pulse at the base of his neck jacking up into double-time.

“Um...”

“Quit it, dick,” I snapped at Brian as I tightened my arms around my boy. And yes, I knew damn
well that I was being a dick too, but I gave zero fucks about that fact. And no, that wasn’t just my
cockblocked libido talking, thank you very much. It was one thing for Brian to dish it out to me, but no
way was I going to let him make Sean uncomfortable, putting him on the spot like that.

Brian laughed, mumbling something about “sprung” or whatnot, then turned back to chat with the
driver. Whatever. He could call me whatever he wanted, but Sean was still doing his deer-in-the-
headlights impression, so fixing that was my new priority.

My boy was nervous, and guess I couldn’t blame it all on Brian giving him a hard time. Going out
to a club just wasn’t Sean’s thing, and not just because he was underage—something that wasn’t going
to be a problem given the hookups that Brian and I had—but because he’d obviously been sheltered
as fuck and wasn’t all that social to start with anyway. Still, true to form, he hadn’t said no when I’d
told him he was coming out with me tonight. Because yeah, of course I was going to show up for

Brian no matter what a dick he’d been about interrupting Sean’s enthusiastic cocksucking practice
earlier… but that didn’t mean I was willing to give up the Sean-time I was addicted to in order to
make that happen.

As far as I was concerned, Sean and I were now a package deal, so if I was going clubbing, he
was coming, too... but knowing Sean would jump to do whatever I told him even when it was way the
fuck outside his comfort zone like this also meant there was no way in hell I’d ever let him down. It
was like that thing that someone smart had once said—Obama, I think? Or maybe Pete Carroll? One
of those guys, anyway—“with great power comes great responsibility” or some shit.

Translation: yes, Sean and I were both were happiest when I told him what to do and then made
him do it, but that also meant it was my job to take care of him while he was busy making me happy
and whatnot… which worked out pretty fucking well in my opinion, since I both liked always getting
whatever the hell I wanted and was also kind of ragingly protective of my boy.

Weird, I know, since I’d always been more of a me-first kinda guy, but I guess it was just more of
that alien mind-control shit or something… or maybe it wasn’t alien mind-control at all, but just the
fact that I really was a selfish prick who wanted my way all the fucking time, and I’d lucked into
finding the one boy in the world who wanted that, too.

Point being, any way you looked at it, Sean and I suited each other perfectly. And since I couldn’t
imagine getting tired of bossing him around and earning all those adoring looks for my efforts—and I
for damn sure couldn’t see ever not wanting to take care of him the way he deserved—guess that
meant Sean was it for me.

It also meant I had to do something about these nerves of his.

“You know how good you look tonight, baby?” I whispered, rubbing a hand over his chest to get
started on fulfilling that particular responsibility… okay, and also because I selfishly wanted him to
give me one of those oh-so-responsive shivers I was kinda addicted to.

And yep, there it was, right on cue.

“Thank you,” he whispered, blushing… which I fucking adored, for the record. I was definitely
distracting him, though—score!—because he lost the deer-in-the-headlights look and started
squirming ever so subtly on my lap.

Jesus, it was easy to get him going. Another of the many things I adored. Although if he’d had a
devious bone in his body, I’d swear all that squirming and whatnot was him being on a mission to
tease my cock until I did something about it. This was Sean, though, so nope. He was no doubt
oblivious to how fucking sexy he was and what that did to me, although how he could doubt that I
wanted him 24/7 was beyond me.

I was more than happy to make it my mission to school him on that, though.

“Careful, babe, or I’m gonna have to use this thing on you,” I whispered into his ear, holding his
hips in place and rocking the bone he was giving me against his ass.

His breath hitched, eyes darting toward the front seat for a second and then back to me as that
blush deepened. “Um, yes please?”

I grinned. So polite… and so conflicted, too. I could tell he was nervous about me getting so
handsy with an audience around, just like I could tell how much it excited him. Not sure if it was the
idea of other people knowing how horny he was getting or just his usual reaction to me taking charge,
but either way, I was pretty sure I could get him begging me to do even dirtier things to him by the end
of the night… especially because there was gonna be no fucking way I’d be able to keep my hands off
him once we actually got inside the club.

I’d picked out a one-size-too-small, tightly fitted shirt for him to wear that I’d found in the back of
his closet, along with a pair of jeans that made his ass look fucking lickable. The best part? I knew for
a fact that he had no clue how fucking hot they looked on him. I did, though, and I was just cocky
enough that I’d enjoy every damn minute of showing off my favorite piece of eye candy to all the guys
who were never gonna get the chance to touch him.

“Since you asked so nicely, you’ll definitely get some cock later, baby,” I promised, scraping my
nails across his chest again and getting a sexy little moan for my troubles. I winked, adding, “As long
as you’re good for me tonight.”

As if he was ever anything else.

And fuck, let’s be real… as if I could resist giving it to him.

It was far past time I fucked him already, and even if I’d been uncharacteristically dithering over
something as simple as shoving my cock in his ass because of all the extra complication of actually
caring about him and shit, there was simply no way in hell I was gonna be able to hold off any longer.

No way… and no reason to. Sean was my boyfriend, and even if it meant I’d officially lost my
manwhore card, I’d been the one to take us to B-town and now I was gonna own that shit.

Tyson Motherfucking Graham: boyfriend. Deal with it.

And since I had no plans on giving my boyfriend up—not ever—I needed to get over myself
already with the whole “it’s his first time” and “gotta blow his fucking mind with it” crap and
remember who the fuck I also was: Tyson Motherfucking Graham, Olympic gold medalist in the sport
of fucking.

Well, I would be, anyway, if that were actually a thing.

But I shit you not, I’d fucked so many twinks I could probably rock Sean’s world in my sleep,
with one hand tied behind my back, blindfolded. My cock was so damn talented that it should be
plated in gold and stuck up on an altar so little gay boys the world over could pause and pray to it
every morning. There were probably entire fandoms dedicated to my cock, legions of hungry little
bottoms who I’d ruined for all others just by giving them a taste of mine, all heartbroken and crying
and shit now that I’d taken it out of circulation.

I mean really, at this point withholding it from Sean was almost cruel, right?

“So is that a yes, sweetness?” I asked when Sean moaned again from the nipple magic I was busy
distracting him with. “You’re gonna be good for me?”

“Yessssss,” he breathed out, leaning back against me to give me better access. “I will be, Tyson.

I… I promise.”

I grinned, my cock flexing. Was I ever gonna get tired of hearing that from him? No I was not,
thank you very much. Especially because it was clear how much he got off on it, too.

God, he was perfect, wasn’t he? All mine and always letting me have whatever I wanted.

Which was him. Fuck. Always.

Okay, it was settled. I was definitely popping his ass cherry tonight… and I was gonna be sure to
tease him all fucking night until that happened so that by the time it did, he was so damn horny he’d be
able to take my monster cock without flinching.

Well, at least without flinching much.

I’d never bottomed myself, but no doubt it was gonna stretch and burn that little virgin ass of his
something fierce… but he was so fucking perfect that even if I split him in two, he’d still end up
coming like a goddamn firehose and then thanking me for the privilege afterward.

Jesus, just thinking about it made me impatient to get back home already. But not gonna lie, it also
sent a whole surge of other feelings through me, too.

I kissed the spot under Sean’s ear that always made him shiver. “Love y—”

I snapped my mouth closed.

Jesus. What?

“What?” Sean asked breathlessly, squirming around to look up at me.

I cleared my throat. Yeah, I was gonna own the B-word like a boss now, but still, there were some
things a guy had to ease his way into… and I wasn’t just talking about my plans for Sean’s ass later.

“Uh, love… love your shirt, babe,” I came up with, going for the save. “So glad you wore it for
me.”

He blushed, smiling so pretty for me that I almost caved and said the original thing.

I know, right? Enough with the alien mind rays already.

“Um, thanks for picking it out,” Sean said, looking down at himself like he was surprised at what
he saw. “I… I didn’t know what to wear.”

“How about we just stick with whatever I tell you to,” I said because yeah, apparently I was that
kinda boyfriend and fuck anyone who thought they got an opinion on it when it worked for me and

Sean.

Honestly, though? I should totally pick out his clothes. Not that I really cared that much what he
wore—I was kinda partial to him in nothing, actually—but not gonna lie, he looked good like this, all
glowy and shit just because I’d taken charge a little… and yeah, the shirt looked good on him, too. I
loved how it was tight enough to put those ultra-sensitive nipples of his on display... something I
didn’t mind one fucking bit since he was mine and I was gonna make sure that anyone looking knew it.

Mostly, though, I just liked seeing them myself, and I decided then and there that step one in my make-
him-desperate-for-it-before-I-fucked-him-tonight plan was gonna be to walk him into the club with
those two little nubs hard enough to cut glass.

“You decide yet on the house, Tyson?” Brian asked, turning around to face me again and smirking
when he caught me whispering a few more dirty things in Sean’s ear as I slid my hand under his shirt
to make that happen.

Swear to God it was still ninety percent PG-13 in the backseat here—well, maybe like sixty
percent, but I mean, we totally still had all our clothes on and shit—but Sean still blushed beet red the
moment Brian turned to look, ducking to put his face against my neck in a move that stroked my inner
caveman just right.

I had mercy and stopped torturing his nipples… for now. No hiding the way his cock had snaked
down his thigh to beg for my attention, though. And since I had a plan in motion and was all about the
follow-through, I let my hand rest teasingly close to it so I could brush my thumb back and forth over
the denim that covered his cockhead.

“Tyson,” he moaned quietly, burrowing against me even more... but pushing his cock toward my
hand anyway.

I grinned. Yeah, I was definitely gonna look out for him— always—but there was no doubt that I
knew what he needed better than he did sometimes. And a little embarrassment? It looked damn good
on my boy in my not so humble opinion.

And I was killing it with the whole dressing him thing, if I did say so myself, because a slutty
little wet spot to decorate his hard-on, something to show off just how hot he was for me when we
walked into the club? That was gonna be the perfect accessory to accompany the way his shirt
displayed those nipples I had standing at attention, now wasn’t it?

Brian laughed. “Fuck, Ty. Can you wait to jerk your boy off until we’re at least on the dance floor,
please? I just got a text from Jay saying he told his cousin he can move into one of our extra rooms, so
if you want the last one—”

“There’s… there’s a dance floor?” Sean interrupted, his head jerking up suddenly. “Do I have
to… have to dance?”

Brian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, no doubt as shocked as I was that shy little Sean had
actually opened his mouth and let a full sentence out in front of him. Although fucking Brian, as if I
wasn’t already salty as hell toward him tonight, now he’d just gone and set back my epic plans by
dousing my boy with another cold dose of anxiety.

“T-T-Tyson?” Sean asked, digging his fingers into my arms as he turned pleading eyes on me and
begged me to tell him no.

Which wasn’t gonna happen, because hell yeah, Sean had to dance. And by dance, I meant get out
there with me, let me tease him in public, and generally give me the chance to make him crazy before I
took him home and finally discovered just how loud he was gonna scream once I finally had my cock
inside him. But was I about to tell him that when he looked like he was either on the verge of passing
out or being sick? No I was not, thank you very much. Maybe I couldn’t claim the kind of mad study
skills he had with school-type shit, but there were some things I was hella smart about.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing his chin to keep his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t worry about that, baby.

I’m in charge, right? And you already promised to be good for me, so just focus on that.”

He nodded slowly, not blinking.

“We’re gonna have fun, sweetness,” I promised him, gentling my voice because this whole
boyfriend thing had turned me into some kind of poster child for sensitivity or something. “And
whatever happens, you know I’m gonna take care of you like I always do, right?”

Brian snorted back a laugh. “Who the fuck are you and where’s Tyson Graham?”

I ignored the noise and kept my eyes on my boy.

“Okay, Tyson,” Sean finally said faintly, his face bone-white.

Good boy… still terrified, though.

I gripped his chin a little tighter, stroking my thumb over his lips and then pushing it inside. And…

yep. Right on cue, Sean started to suck, those first-time-in-a-club jitters of his starting to melt away
before my eyes as his pretty blue ones took on that hazy, relaxed please-do-anything-to-me look I
loved so damn much.

See? I was a fucking genius when it came to this boy.

“Okay, your whole kinky ‘I’m in charge’ thing is hot and all,” Brian said, rolling his eyes. “But for
real, you moving in with us this summer or not, Ty? Jay’s blowing up my phone, and I think he’s got
someone else lined up if you’re not in.”

I pulled my thumb out of Sean’s mouth, deciding I was officially gonna unfriend Brian if he kept
interfering like this, but then forgot about him for a sec, stifling a groan, when Sean blinked those
pretty eyes of his and pouted at me like I’d just taken away his favorite toy.

Jesus. He killed me.

“Sorry to cut off all the foreplay, but we’re here,” the Lyft driver said dryly, adding himself to my
shit list for the interruption.

I slid Sean off my lap and adjusted my raging wood while Brian started yapping about the room
again. “Tell Jay to chill,” I told him as we all got out, keeping a tight grip on Sean’s hand since he’d
started to tremble with nerves again. “I’ll take the room, at least for the summer, but no promises on
next school year yet, okay?”

Not until I found out Sean’s plans, which I’d been too damn distracted by his everything else to
have pinned down yet. But living without him? Yeah, no. Not after how spoiled I’d gotten this year.

No way was I giving up having 24/7 access to him, not if I could help it. The summer was already
gonna suck, and it was just hitting me with all Brian’s pestering about the upcoming change to our
living arrangements just how quickly it was actually gonna be here. And then Sean was gonna be...

Fuck.

I assumed he was planning on going home? But not gonna lie, the idea of him putting himself back
within arm’s reach of his mother made me want to hit something, and that was even before we
addressed the issue of how I was supposed to go a full fucking summer without getting my own Sean-
fix.

“We’ll meet you inside,” I said to Brian as we passed the long line snaking toward the club’s
entrance and all headed around toward the alley in back. So much faster to just use that door—
especially since the bouncer who manned it was a big enough football fan that he’d never questioned

Brian’s or my right to be there without proper ID—than to fuck around with what the rest of the
population had to deal with.

I ignored a dirty suggestion called out by a twink in line who I was pretty sure had ridden my cock
before and waved Brian off when he tried to give me some more shit about needing some “alone
time” with Sean, tugging Sean off to the side to get some things straight before we went inside.

Well, just one thing, really.

“You’re living with me again next year, right?” I asked, just needing to hear it so I could move on
to figuring out how to deal with the summer.

Where the fuck was he from again, anyway? Pretty sure it was somewhere plane-ride distance
away versus someplace I could pull off over the weekends in my Jeep. Which… fuck. But one thing at
a time.

“Baby?” I prompted him since he still hadn’t answered.

Sean shook his head, his face going even whiter than it had in the car.

Wait, what? I was so damn used to his constant string of “yes, Tysons” and breathless “okays” and
all the music-to-my-ears “anything you say, Tysons” that I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to
tell me.

Had he suddenly developed a nervous twitch?

Or like, a neck cramp or something?

“I’m talking about your sophomore year, sweetness,” I clarified. “You’ll be back on campus by
the end of August, right? And then we’re gonna room together again.”

Yeah, that was better. Me asking wasn’t really how we operated. I just needed to tell him, so he
knew we were on the same page.

But—

“I… I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears so fast it felt like a gut punch. He dashed
at them before I could recover, ducking his head, and whispered, “I can’t, Tyson. I… I won’t be here
next year.”

“What?” I snapped, gripping his chin maybe a little too hard as I jerked his head back up. My
heart started to pound, and I told myself to loosen my hold. I couldn’t, though. “What the fuck, Sean?

Of course you’ll be here.”

He tried to shake his head again but hell no, I kept my grip tight because that was not gonna fly.

“Who’s in charge?” I reminded him, feeling a little out of control myself all of a sudden. There
were certain things I could always count on in life, like Coach starting me and waking up with
morning wood and Sean. He never pulled this crap.

Except this time, it looked like he was.

He bit his lip, going all teary on me again instead of giving me the answer I needed.

“Sean,” I said, crowding him back against the wall behind him and pinning him there and fuck no,
my voice didn’t crack. I mean, maybe a little, but that was probably just the alley acoustics. I cleared
my throat. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He swallowed. “My parents w-w-want me to—”

“Fuck no,” I cut in sharply, seeing red the minute he dropped the P-word. I should have known it
was something like that. But okay. All right. This was solvable. I took a breath, making myself calm
down a little. “They don’t get a say, sweetheart.”

His eyes went wide.

“Are they paying for your school?” I asked, knowing the answer already because somehow over
the course of the year I’d gotten pretty well-versed in all things Sean.

“Um… no?” he said tentatively. “I mean, they… they bought the furniture and stuff for our dorm,
but my tuition is covered by all the scholarships.”

Fuck the furniture. I didn’t need a fucking million-inch flat screen, I needed him.

“Covered for all four years, right?”

I knew the answer to that one, too.

He nodded, and something inside me relaxed. Okay then. He wasn’t fighting me on this, I just
hadn’t done a good enough job with the boyfriend thing, what with being kinda new to it and all,
because somehow, I’d left him with the impression that those fuckheads who’d done such a number
raising him still got to call the shots.

Correct answer to that one? Hell no. They’d lost that right and never should have had it in the first
place. And naive and sheltered or not, Sean was a goddamn adult who’d earned his freedom when
he’d scored all those hefty scholarships and whatnot.

And more importantly? He was mine.

“Okay then, like I said, they don’t get a say,” I said, almost calmly this time. They didn’t get one
and they didn’t fucking deserve one, but to focus on the important things: “You’re staying with me,

Sean.”

“But—” he started to say.

“No buts,” I interrupted, putting a finger over his mouth to shush him... then I got distracted by
how fucking pretty it was and dipped down for a taste.

Honestly? Not distracted. I just needed one after that little bombshell of a misunderstanding.

Sean melted into me just like he always did, and my heart rate finally slowed the fuck down. We
were good. The rest of the details could come later.

“I’ve… I’ve been avoiding their calls ever since, um, ever since you told me to hang up on

Mother,” he said when I finally managed to stop kissing him a few minutes later. “But I’ve… I’ve
listened to their messages, Tyson, and—”

“Sean,” I interrupted, releasing the grip I still had on his chin and sliding my hand down to rest
around his throat instead.

He went still.

I loved the feel of his thrumming pulse under my palm. Besides, even after kissing him senseless, I
could tell that he’d still been veering toward a freak-out, but any form of restraint always calmed him
down. Reminded him of how it was between us.

See? Not so shabby at the boyfriending after all, huh?

“We’re gonna sort all that shit out,” I told him, because making that happen was the only answer
that was gonna work for me. “But not tonight, okay? You know I’m not going to let you go, right? So
there’s nothing else for you to worry about. I’ve got this.”

He stared up at me for-fucking-ever before finally relaxing again. “Okay,” he said, giving me a
tiny little smile that did stupid things to my heart.

I grinned. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I mean, if you’re really sure that you want—”

“I do,” I cut in, because whatever he’d been about to say, it was true. I wanted fucking everything
with him. “Now what are we here for tonight?”

He blinked, glancing behind me as if he’d just remembered where we were. “Um, Brian’s
birthday?”

I mean, technically. But—

“To have a good time, sweetness,” I corrected him.

“Oh, okay,” he said, nodding earnestly. Then he glanced toward the door Brian had disappeared
through a few minutes ago, swallowing hard as he started to get a little deer-in-the-headlights again.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best, Tyson.”

Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to work for me, not when he looked like he was worried that his

“best” might not be good enough. As far as I was concerned, there was no way Sean was ever gonna
do anything that wasn’t good enough, not when making me happy was basically his holy grail. And
since mine was the only opinion that mattered when it came to him—at least, as far as I was
concerned—I wasn’t gonna put up with any of this doubting-himself bullshit. Not on my watch. We
were gonna get right back on the make-him-too-horny-to-be-nervous train, thank you very much.

Starting now.

Although side note: I was pretty fucking sure I knew exactly who was to blame for Sean not
realizing how goddamn perfect he was, and I for damn sure wasn’t going to let her take him away
from me, not next year and not ever. In fact, if I ever met her in person… just sayin’, obviously I
wouldn’t make it physical, but I really couldn’t be blamed for anything that might come out of my
mouth, you know?

Although all bets were off if she ever tried to lay hands on him again.

I ground my teeth together, then shoved that ugly thought away with a vengeance because I had a
sexy boy—my boyfriend, dammit—staring up at me with that eager, please-tell-me-I’ve-said-the-
right-thing look, and no fucking way was I going to let him down the way his parentals or anyone else
had.

Sean was mine, and even though I’d never wanted a “mine” before since I’d always been a
quantity-over-quality kind of guy before realizing I could actually have both in one cock-pleasing,
twinkalicious package, now that I did, I was goddamn well gonna protect what was mine from anyone
who even considered not treating him the way he deserved... no matter what right they mistakenly
thought they had to him.

Looking at you, Mama Bitch.

I spread my palm open over Sean’s slim chest, pushing him back against the wall and holding him
there. “I don’t want you to worry about doing your best, baby, I just want you to do whatever I tell you
to, got it?”

He nodded, eyes wide, and I bit my tongue to keep from letting loose with the L-word.

“Kiss me,” I said instead, because hello, possibly true or not, I’d just recently graduated to the B-
and R-words, thank you very much. Going for the L was some serious next level shit. A guy had to
work up to these things, alien mind-control or not.

Sean licked his lips, then pushed himself forward against my hand so he could go up on his toes
and do it. And Jesus, that mouth? Fucking delicious. And yes, I loved to use it in other ways too, but
not gonna lie, somewhere along the line I’d officially converted to a fan of just kissing for the sake of
it.

Totally Sean’s fault, so damn sweet with just a hint of dirty. Kissing him always made me want to
keep right on doing it forever, just wrap him up and hold him against me like some kind of cheesy-ass
chick flick finale or something... but at the same time, every time, it made me want to fucking own
him.

Make him beg me to touch his pretty little cock for him the way he still couldn’t.

Shove him down to his knees and let him suck me dry.

And yes— hell yes—kissing him also made me want to fuck him the way I was suddenly feeling
kinda desperate to… and not just desperate in the whole my-cock-needs-it way that was basically my
default state, but desperate like it suddenly felt goddamn necessary after the scare he’d just given me
with that whole “I’m leaving you” bullshit.

Necessary like it would bind us together or some shit.

Like doing it would mean I really did own him… laid claim to him… could make him mine and
keep him that way. And yeah, yeah, I knew that was pretty stupid given how many guys I’d fucked and
walked away from without a backward glance—it was just gonna be sex, not some weird soul-
bonding experience or whatever—but with Sean, it still felt like it would be different.

With him, everything was different.

So yes, I was fully aware that finally getting my cock into his ass shouldn’t have meant anything
more than both of us finding another way to get off, but since I was already tipping dangerously close
to L-territory with every passing breath, it… well, it felt like it would.

“Good boy,” I murmured when he finally pulled away and smiled up at me shyly. I ran a hand
down his back to squeeze a handful of that perfect little ass. “See how well you follow directions?

And tonight when we go inside, that’s all you gotta do, okay? It’s gonna be fun.”

“Okay,” he said, breathing the word out happily because I was a goddamn rock star when it came
to taking care of him and soothing away those nerves of his.

“You’re gonna enjoy yourself, sweetness,” I told him, almost ready to level up right then and
there.

Before I could slip and accidentally do that, the door we were headed for in a second swung open
behind me, disgorging a couple of laughing guys in ass-hugging shorts that I might have taken as an
invitation if I’d had eyes for anyone but Sean. Their exit was accompanied by a burst of bass-
thumping music that stole Sean’s attention for a moment and made his eyes go wide.

“I know you’re gonna have a good time, baby,” I said firmly, drawing his attention back to me
where it belonged before any doubts could creep into those pretty eyes of his. “Because I want you to
and you’re so damn good at making me happy.”

He bit his lip, his cheeks going pink with pleasure from the praise, and yep, just like that, we
were good again.

Not gonna lie, I loved how easy it was to get a response from him… and there was no more
satisfying way to do it than by telling him all the things he did right.

Which, for the record, was goddamn everything.

“You planning on mauling that twink all night or you coming inside, Graham?” called out Troy, the
bouncer who manned the back entrance.

“You referring to the quality time I was just spending here with my boyfriend?” I shot back,
grabbing Sean’s hand and pulling him toward the door.

And that’s right, the B-word rolled right off my tongue that time without a hitch. It knew it was my
bitch now... and it liked it.

Also fun? The way dropping the B-bomb made Troy’s smirk turn into wide-eyed surprise.

“Because if so, the answer to both those questions is yes,” I informed him as he opened the door
for us, letting out another wave of music that made Sean cling to me even tighter... although if I was
being real, the correct answer to Troy’s questions would’ve been a hell to the yes.

All night. Every night. Always.

And even though I’d gotten a little side-tracked with the whole planning-for-the-future curveball

Sean had thrown me a minute ago, my mission to make him beg for my cock by the end of the night
was back on, too. I mean, I had promised him a good time, right? And just like with the other thing—
not letting him go, and definitely not at his parents’ say-so—I was always gonna keep my promises to
my boy.

1 1

S E A N

I PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN TIRED by the time Tyson and I got back to the dorms, but even though it
was super late and he’d actually made me dance for hours, it really had turned out to be fun, just like
he’d promised. Fun and exciting… that kind of exciting.

I blushed just thinking about it, because I mean, I guess most of what we’d been doing hadn’t
actually been dancing and probably shouldn’t even have been done in public at all, but I hadn’t
worried about it like Tyson had said not to, because I really did trust him to take care of me. Well, that
and because everything felt okay when he was in charge, even the stuff I knew I probably shouldn’t
have been doing at all, much less in front of other people.

Although thinking of how easy everything became when Tyson took charge of me just reminded me
that he’d said my parents weren’t, not anymore. That even though they’d said I had to leave, Tyson
didn’t want me to.

That he wouldn’t let me.

I peeked over at him as he toed off his shoes and lined them up next to mine, then pulled his
sweatshirt off over his head, showing off his mouthwateringly gorgeous stomach for a minute before
his t-shirt slipped back down into place and he tossed the sweatshirt onto the little hook I’d put by the
door, just for that.

I smiled, ducking my head. He’d never said anything about the hook but I liked how he used it all
the time. And the other stuff? About me not switching schools next year and staying here with him
instead? I wondered if he’d really meant it. It had felt like he meant it when he’d been staring down at
me in that alley and touching me and… and kissing me.

Or I guess technically I’d kissed him, but I’d only had the guts to do it because he’d told me to.

I loved it so much when he told me what to do. It meant no overthinking and always knowing I’d
make him happy. And when he’d told me he wasn’t going to let me go, I… I wanted that so bad. I
wanted to believe it could be just like he’d said. And maybe it really could? Because he was right,
even though I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way before. Everything I actually needed to stay on
campus and finish my degree here was paid for by all those scholarships I’d gotten. And even though
the idea of really being on my own, with no one to tell me what to do and no one else looking over my
shoulder, was a tiny bit terrifying… it was mostly kind of wonderful.

And maybe the “kind of wonderful” part was because if Tyson did mean it, I wouldn’t really be
on my own, would I? I’d be with him.

“Where are you going, baby?” he asked, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face
him when I started heading down the hallway.

“Um, to bed?” I said, because it was super late and I’d never, ever assume he’d want me with him
if he didn’t say so... and for all the dirty things he had said tonight, and despite how he’d made my
thing so hard that even now I wasn’t sure I could sleep at all, he hadn’t said so.

So maybe he needed his sleep?

We didn’t get very much sleep when he made me sleep in his bed with him.

He laughed, tugging me against him and making me think for about the billionth time since the first
time he’d ever done it that there was truly nowhere else I ever wanted to be. “You’d better mean my
bed, sweetness,” he said, getting all growly and sexy in that way that always made my thing start to
throb. “Didn’t I promise you something?”

My mind blanked.

“Yes?” I said anyway, not really sure what he meant but super happy that he wanted me.

Tyson laughed, touching my face and holding it in that firm, possessive way he had that always
made me feel sort of cherished and… and wanted. “God, you’re always so damn agreeable, baby.”

I bit my lip to hold in a smile that would probably look too big if I let it out. “Do you, um, want
me to argue?” I asked, daring to tease him a little because I was sure the answer was no but Tyson…

Tyson made me feel like it was okay to say any thing.

He laughed again, which filled me with the warm, syrupy goodness that I’d only ever felt around
him. “Hell no,” he said, leaning down to kiss me fast and then pulling me with him down the hall to
his room, where I’d really wanted to go anyway. “I’m a selfish bastard who loves that you always let
me have my way, sweetness. Love how you like doing whatever I say, that you want me to be in
charge, that you’re so damn quick to promise me anything I want. I love… uh, I love all of this. With
you. It’s perfect.”

My heart started to race. That was a lot of love, and even if he wasn’t saying it was me he loved,
sometimes… sometimes it almost felt like he might mean that, too.

Or at least, like maybe he could someday.

“I love all of it, too,” I said a little breathlessly, since I could never say what I really felt if he
didn’t say it first. Then I swallowed, a moment of doubt creeping in. Because how was it possible
that he actually loved all that? That he liked me just the way I was, when the way I was had never
quite been good enough for anyone else? “Is that… is that wrong?” I asked, hoping so hard to hear
him say it wasn’t because he was always so sure of everything and I wasn’t, at least not outside of
school stuff where it was easy to get the right answer if you just paid attention.

“Wrong?” His brow crinkled and he kicked the door of his room shut behind us, pulling my shirt
off and making me shiver. “Sean, you and me together is the most right thing there is.”

“But I don’t… I don’t ever want to be in charge,” I admitted, forcing the words out because it was
only fair to tell him the truth, especially since he’d said he wanted me to stay with him and if he was
going to get tired of me, I should probably know now before I got my hopes up about… about things
lasting as long as I wanted them to.

“You don’t, huh?” he asked, smiling down at me like I really had said something right. He pulled
me closer, rocking me against him, and squeezed my bottom. “What do you want?”

Oh, God.

That.

What I wanted was definitely more of that.

And… and more than that, too. I wanted too much, I could never say all of it, especially not the
dirty bits. I could never let him know how greedy—how needy—I really was, even if he could
probably kind of tell and always said it was okay. But, since he always said so himself and I knew he
liked me to answer when he asked me a question, maybe I could at least admit part of it.

“I want you to take care of me.”

“Oh, baby,” Tyson said, grinning so big that his eyes looked like little half-moons. “That’s all I
wanna do.” His hand slid down my chest, making the muscles in my stomach jump, and he kept right
on going, covering up the rigid line of my thing right through my pants. “Wanna take care of what’s
mine. And you know I love that this is all mine, right?”

I nodded, or tried to. I was pretty sure I at least jerked my chin. But ohgodohgodohgod… every
time he touched me there I couldn’t think, and I didn’t even care that I couldn’t do it myself. I didn’t
want to. I liked how it belonged to him just as much as he did.

I rocked my hips forward. I couldn’t help it. And Tyson laughed, low and dirty, as his hand
tightened a little and made me whimper.

“You’re so fucking perfect for me, Sean. You know that, right?”

He’d said it before but somehow, right now, the way he was looking at me and the fireworks
shooting through all the naughty parts of me, I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a minute. It felt like
everything just... stopped. Or maybe I just wanted it to, since the moment really did feel as perfect as
he always said things were. And yes, he was always saying that, and he’d never—not once—made me
think he was just kidding. So maybe... maybe he really meant it? Like really for real, forever meant
it?

“You’re perfect for me, too,” I said before I could stop myself, feeling something that I almost
didn’t recognize start to unfurl inside me. I believed him. I mean, of course I’d never thought he was
outright lying to me, Tyson was far too nice for that, but I’d just always assumed… I mean, I’d just
figured that eventually he’d… that someday, probably sooner rather than later, even if he meant it for
now, he’d… stop?

But what if he didn’t?

What if he never did?

My breath hitched, a dangerous, greedy kind of hope bursting to life inside me. I’d never really
thought I could have the things I wanted because everything I’d wanted always seemed to be wrong—
at least, that’s what I’d been told growing up—but even those times I had gotten something nice, I
knew better to think it might last. But… maybe things might be different with Tyson. Maybe… maybe I
could make them different, because with Tyson, it felt like all I had to do to make things work was
just... be me.

“Perfect, huh?” Tyson said, the way his eyes dragged down my face and settled on my mouth,
making me feel all fluttery inside.

“I mean… almost,” I said, biting my lip as soon as the words left my mouth. My cheeks flared
with heat and I couldn’t believe I’d just teased him again, not with his hand still on me and after all
the nice things he’d just said. But I didn’t think he’d be mad. Tyson had never gotten mad at me, not
one single time that I could remember, which was… well, it felt incredible.

Back home, I mean back at my parents’ house—which didn’t feel like home at all when I thought
about it now, and honestly, maybe never had even though I’d grown up there all my life—but back
there, I used to feel like I was walking on eggshells all the time, always trying so hard to do the right
thing but always getting it wrong anyway. And here, with Tyson, I… didn’t.

Not anymore, now that I knew him.

Not ever.

And sure enough, all he did was raise one eyebrow and tease me right back. “Almost perfect?

And what do I have to do to be all the way perfect, sweetheart?”

He already was all the way perfect, I’d kind of lied about that just to make him smile—which I
was sure was okay this once since it had worked—except… oh, God. Could I really say what I’d
been thinking about lately, all those times he did things to me, made me spread my legs and used my
bottom to make himself feel good? Rubbed himself on me until he made a mess right there, covering
my hole with his hot release and then pushing it inside me? Played with that dirty little spot of mine,
round and round with his fingers and sometimes even his tongue, until I wanted to scream from how
good it felt? But still, he never… ever used it the way I was pretty sure he liked doing with all those
boys he used to bring back here.

He never put his thing inside me, and that… well, that really would be perfect if he ever decided
he wanted me that way.

But I could already feel myself blushing harder just from thinking it and I wasn’t at all sure I could
ever say it out loud. But maybe… maybe I didn’t have to, because Tyson had promised me something
earlier, I remembered now. He’d promised that if I was good, he’d give me his… um, you know. And
he could have meant it lots of different ways and I knew for sure I’d love all of them, but maybe this
time he’d actually meant that he wanted… that?

“You’re thinking of something dirty, aren’t you, pretty thing?” he asked, almost purring as he
stroked me right through my jeans again and then unzipped them, pushing them down. He hadn’t let me
wear any underwear, so I was totally bare. “Is that what you want?” he asked, reaching around to cup
my bottom and spreading it open… kneading the cheeks… slipping his fingers through my crease until

I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. “Is that how I can be the perfect boyfriend for you?

By giving you something you haven’t gotten yet? By making you all the way mine?”

I let my head fall forward to rest on his shoulder, panting hard as I tried hard to be good and…

and think about… what he wanted... what had he asked?

“Yes,” I whispered, because I really couldn’t concentrate on all, not with the way he was touching
me, but whatever he’d asked, I was pretty sure yes would always be the right answer.

But Tyson stopped touching me. Made me straighten up and then lifted my chin to look at him.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice all hard and stern the way I liked best since it meant I didn’t have to
think about what was right or wrong at all, all I had to do was answer him. “I want to hear you say it,
sugar. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Tyson, will you…”

My tongue froze, glued to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to be good, but there were some words I
just couldn’t say. Words Tyson used all the time that always made me feel the best kind of bad—bad
in that deliciously dirty way that with him turned into good even though I know for sure I would have
been punished hard for even thinking them before—but even though I wanted to answer him, wanted
to give him what he wanted, I just… I couldn’t.

He got that heated, bossy look in his eyes. “Can’t say it, baby?”

I wanted to cry.

“What if I made you?”

He put his hand back on my thing before I could even think about answering that, and I moaned,
my eyes rolling back as I clutched onto his shoulders and tried not to make a mess right there in his
hand.

“So fucking hot,” he whispered. “Is it like when you try to touch yourself, sweetness? You have
such a squeaky clean mouth, is that why? You can’t talk dirty to me?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I gasped out, jerking my hips forward because oh God, it felt so good when he
touched me that I couldn’t be good sometimes.

“Don’t you ever be sorry,” he growled, squeezing me so tight it almost hurt. “And don’t fucking
come, either, not until I say so.”

I stopped moving, feeling hot and flushed and like I couldn’t catch my breath and so… so grateful
he was always there to help me be good when I couldn’t.

And to make me be bad, too.

My thing throbbed in his hand and he smiled down at me, repeating it. “Don’t ever be sorry, Sean.

Told you you’re fucking perfect, didn’t I? I love being in charge of your pretty little cock. Love
making you come. Love the way you can’t get yourself off without my help… at least, not unless you
sneak behind my back and do bad things to yourself, huh?”

I whined, low in my throat, because even when he called me bad I could see how much he liked
it, and everything— everything—he said to me just got me more excited. Made me shamefully hard
and feel deliciously dirty but also all warm and syrupy and floaty and… and happy, all at once.

I loved him.

I belonged to him.

And yes, if he made me say those things I… I’d try, for him.

“Make me,” I whispered, a spike of terror shooting through my stomach straight down to my thing
and making it jerk with excitement in Tyson’s hand. “You can… you can make me, Tyson. Make me
tell you what… what I want you to do to my… to my…”

“To this cock that I own?” Tyson asked when my throat locked up again, tugging on it so that I had
to go with him toward the bed. He pushed me down and stripped my pants all the way off, then made
me lie flat while he stood over me and looked at me. “Is that what you need right now, baby? Need
me to take care of that boner you’ve had for me all night?”

Oh, God. I wanted to say yes. It would feel so good. But…

“No,” I whispered, clenching my hands into the bedsheets. “Not… not that. Can you please… um,
will you…”

My stomach spasmed.

I couldn’t ask him.

“Roll over,” Tyson ordered, pulling his shirt off and then shucking off his pants so that he was
naked, too. “Now, Sean.”

I did it, squeezing my eyes closed with a little gasp when my thing rubbed against his silky
bedspread and almost made a mess right then and there.

He spanked me, and my eyes flew back open.

“Dirty boy,” he said, climbing onto the bed, too. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasped out, pushing my stinging bottom up in the air like the shameless, needy little thing
he turned me into. “Please, Tyson.”

“Damn,” he said, sounding almost reverent. “You want my cock bad, don’t you, baby?”

I was already so excited I could barely catch my breath. “Yes. Please. Always.”

“So good for me,” he said, rubbing the spot he’d spanked and spreading the delicious heat of it
right through me. “You’ve been wanting it for a while now, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

I buried my face in his pillow and nodded, pushing back against his touch greedily.

Tyson groaned, spreading my cheeks open and pressing his thumb right where I needed him to.

“Been craving it every time I played with this hot little hole… been wanting me to give it what it was
made for… holding yourself back from begging me to stuff you as full as you’ve dreamed of, is that
it?”

“Yes,” I said into the pillow, little sparks shooting through me. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“Gonna have to tell me, then,” he said, pulling his thumb away and holding me open. “So damn
pretty, I’d be happy to bury my cock in your sweet little ass, Sean, but I want to hear you say it.”

I froze.

He laughed, spanking me again in the same spot he had before.

“Tyson,” I gasped, my hips jerking forward onto the bed as those sparks inside me started to turn
into fireworks. “Please.”

“That’s right, sweetness. You want my cock, you’re going to have to beg for it. Love it so much
when you beg. And you need some help? I’m always here to help you, sugar, so if you want me to
make you say it—”

He spanked me again on the other side, and oh, Lord, oh my God, I just wasn’t strong enough to
keep holding my thing back from exploding if he was going to keep doing that. It felt the good kind of
bad, a little bit of hurting and a whole lot of that delicious, sparking heat, but most of all it meant he
wanted me. I had all his attention and he was going to make me do what he said and I couldn’t… I
couldn’t…

“Tyson,” I whimpered, rubbing my thing against the bed because it was about to explode and…

and... “I can’t… can’t be good.”

He spanked me again, then yanked my hips up off the bed, digging his fingers into me to hold me
there. “You come before I’m inside you and I won’t fuck you at all,” he said, leaning over me to
growl the words right into my ear. His whole body blanketed mine, and I needed him.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please, Tyson… will you… will you put it in me?”

“Put what in you, baby?” he asked, rubbing his hand over my bottom again, fingers dragging
through my crease.

I shuddered, sparks shooting through me so hard I couldn’t see for a moment.

“Tell me what you want. My fingers?”

He pushed one against my entrance.

I shook my head… or maybe nodded. I wanted all of it.

“Want me to lick this pretty hole for you?” he asked, circling it over and over with a finger until I
wanted to scream. “Want me to kiss it, baby? Want me to suck on your little pucker until it’s all
swollen and slutty, then fuck you with my… tongue?”

“No,” I moaned, rocking back against his hand. “Yes. Please. No. Tyson. I… I…”

“You want my cock.”

I nodded.

“Tell me.”

He took his finger away and I whimpered. “I want it. Please.”

He spanked me again and I came. I was so bad. I couldn’t help it and I hadn’t meant to but I… I
made such a mess, shooting it all over his bedspread as my thing jerked and twitched and spat out all
the evidence of my naughtiness.

“Oh, fuck,” Tyson said, laughing as he rubbed my ass and held onto me. “You’re something else,

Sean. Guess that’s what I get for teasing you all night at the club, huh?”

It didn’t matter how good it felt, he’d told me not to and I’d done it anyway.

I wanted to cry.

He rolled me over and pulled me onto his lap, getting my mess on both of us and poking my hip
with his hard shaft. “Hey now, look at me,” he said, making me do it and then kissing me sweetly, like

I hadn’t just disobeyed him right after he’d told me to wait.

I stopped shaking, my stomach settling down the minute his lips touched mine.

“You’re hot as fuck, you know that?” Tyson said after a minute, pulling away and rubbing his hand
over my stomach, right through the mess. “So sexy, the way you always go off so fast for me. But
don’t think this means we’re done here though, baby. I’m still going to fuck you tonight. Still gonna
make you feel good.” He laughed again, sliding his messy hand down to wrap it around my soft thing.

“I mean, make you feel even better. Gonna make you come again like I know you can, but this time, I
want you to come on my cock, okay? Can you do that for me? Be my good boy and give me what I
want?”

I nodded, wanting to cry suddenly for a whole different reason than letting him down. How could
he always be so good to me?

“Now, you gonna say something slutty to me like I want, or are we gonna have to work up to that
another day, sweetness?” he asked, moving us both off the bed and then yanking the dirty bedspread
off. “Because I’m happy to make you tell me just how bad you want my cock inside you, how hungry
your ass is for my cum, how bad you need to be fucked, but Sean?”

He pointed to the bed and I scrambled back onto it.

“On your back this time, baby,” he said, pulling a big bottle half full of something watery looking
out of his nightstand and then crawling onto the bed, too. “It’s just as fucking hot when you can’t say
that shit, you know? You’re never gonna do sex wrong, not with me, and I’m the only one who
matters, right? The only one who’s ever gonna touch you.”

Ever?

“Yes,” I breathed out, my heart skipping with excitement as my thing started to get excited again,
too. “Only you.”

He looked down at me like I was candy, his eyes hooded and hot, and stroked himself. “And what
am I about to do to you, sweetheart?”

I fisted my hands in his sheets, watching him touch himself. It was so sexy I almost couldn’t stand
it, and he was going to put it inside me. He’d said so.

“You’re going to… going to… to own me,” I said, because I wanted it to be true and I still
couldn’t say the other thing, not even after he’d tried to spank it out of me. I spread my legs wide,
pulling my knees back to show him where. “All of me, Tyson. I’m… I’m yours.”

“Fuck yeah, you are,” he said, licking his lips. He let go of his shaft and pumped some of the clear
jelly into his hand, then reached down and spread it right over my hole.

I gasped. Cold. But oh my God, it made his touch feel even better.

He pushed a finger inside me and I froze still, sparks shooting through me even though it also felt
so… so strange. Wrong. Right. Like what Tyson had said was true: that this is what my body had been
made for.

“It’s gonna hurt, baby,” Tyson said, pushing that finger deep and then pulling it back out. Twisting
it inside me when he did it again and then— ahhhhhhhhhhh—making me lose all track of what he was
saying completely. “But you know I’ll make it up to you, right?”

He pulled his finger out and my eyes popped open even though I hadn’t realized I’d closed them.

“Please,” I gasped, pulling my knees back and shamelessly opening myself even more for him.

“Don’t… don’t stop, Tyson.”

He laughed, low and sexy. “Fuck no, Sean. I’m not stopping until my cum is dripping out of your
ass. Gonna fuck you right through this mattress tonight. Gonna take everything you’re offering me,
sugar. Gotta stretch you first, though.” He pushed his fingers back in except this time—unh. It did hurt
a little. Two fingers.

“Breathe, baby. You can take it for me. So fucking tight, but you can hurt a little for me, can’t you,
sweetness?”

I tipped my head back and squeezed my eyes closed and nodded. I would do anything for him, but
this… it didn’t hurt. Well, okay, it did… but it hurt good? I hadn’t ever known that was a thing before

Tyson, but the more he thrust his fingers in and out of me—so dirty and exciting and good—the more I
craved it. He kept brushing up against a spot inside me that made my thing feel like he was touching it
from the inside, and even though I’d known what a greedy, shameless boy I really was, I’d never
known just how desperate I could feel until now.

I needed more.

I needed him to do it harder.

I needed his… his… I needed him all the way inside me, all of him, like he’d said.

“Please,” I whispered, my thighs trembling. “More, Tyson.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, then got more of that slippery jelly on his fingers and pushed three inside me
at once. “Need to fuck you so bad.”

Three was too much. It burned, and not in that delicious, fireworks-way or the stinging, exciting
way like when he’d spanked me. But Tyson was looking down at me, staring right at my hungry, dirty
little hole as he thrust those fingers inside me, and the look on his face made the burning worth it.

He drove them right into that spot again and I moaned.

Not just worth it… he made the burning good.

Tyson looked up, catching my eye. “Fuck, Sean,” he said, leaning down to kiss me with his fingers
still inside me. “Fucking love… this,” he muttered right against my mouth, thrusting them in me even
faster. “Watching you take it. So damn tight. Love being the only one who gets to touch you. This hole
belongs to me, you understand? It was made for me. Can’t wait to get my cock inside it and fucking
own it, baby.”

I was shaking. He’d said not to come again but he was making everything spark and tremble and I
didn’t know… didn’t know if I could be good. My thing was hard again and still wet from the last
mess I’d made and it quivered against my stomach, trapped under his body. The feel of his erection
throbbing against the back of my thigh, so close to where I needed it as he lay over me and used his
fingers the way I wanted him to use it, stripped away my filter.

“Don’t wait,” I begged, panting as I wrapped myself around him and arching up to get more
friction. I clutched him to me as tightly as I could and rocked myself back onto his fingers
shamelessly, the burn totally eclipsed by my desperation now. “Please, please, Tyson. Put it in me. I
need you. Want to be… want to be good but… but, Tyson. Please.”

He pulled his fingers out. “Jesus, baby. Love it so damn much when you beg.”

And then he peeled me off him and sat back on his knees, yanking me close enough that my bottom
was right there and my legs were all the way up over his shoulders. He gripped my hip with one
hand, guiding his shaft right to my hole with the other.

“Tyson?” I whispered when he stopped there, fisting my hands in the sheets again because
otherwise I would have shaken apart from the pure wanting.

“You know my cock is bigger than what you just took, baby,” he said, rubbing the fat tip of himself
over my hole as he stared down at me. “You sure you want to hurt for me?”

That one was easy. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, then pushed his cock inside me.

My mouth dropped open but no sound came out, and I think I forgot to breathe. He was right. It
hurt… but hurting didn’t matter. My whole world contracted in an instant, narrowing to just that one
spot that was totally overwhelmed with sensation. I could feel him, hot and hard and thick enough that
it felt like he was splitting me open as he forced his way inside my body, and it was… it was perfect.

It was like he was taking me over completely, like I didn’t exist other than for this, for him, and even
though I’d felt lucky every time he’d touched me, this was different.

This was more.

This was everything.

Tyson said something else, dirty or sweet or maybe both, but I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear
anything over the rushing in my ears as wave after wave of… of feeling rocked me. I guess it was
pain? But it was more than that, too.

It hurt, but it didn’t.

It hurt, but it was him… and I didn’t have to be afraid he’d stop because he didn’t. He just kept
pushing in deeper and deeper, a long relentless slide that I couldn’t escape and didn’t want to, an
overwhelming fullness that forced me open, filled me up, took me over until I didn’t think I could take
it anymore… except of course I could. I would. I wanted to, because it was Tyson and I loved him and

I never wanted him to stop, because even when it hurt, there was nothing that felt better than being his.

“Sean,” Tyson said, his voice all strained and tight as he reached down and gripped my chin.

“Open your eyes.”

“Okay,” I whispered, doing it because he wanted me to.

He was all the way inside me, pressed against me so tightly that I could feel the soft patch of
trimmed hair he had down there as he leaned over me. He stared down, eyes locked on mine and
every muscle in his body standing out in stark relief, as if he was using all of them at once even
though he was holding absolutely still. “Baby, shit. Is it too much?”

I tried to shake my head but couldn’t move it. I couldn’t move anything. He’d impaled me, pinned
me in place, was holding me tight, had taken over completely and it was… it was perfect.

“No,” I said, giving him a trembling smile. I licked my lips, mouth dry and my whole body hot and
quivery-feeling. “Tyson, it.. it will never be too much. I want… I want everything.”

He ran his thumb over my lips, then grinned. “Gonna give it to you,” he said before letting go of
my face and pulling out.

“No,” I gasped, so empty so fast that I couldn’t stand it. My stomach muscles contracted as I tried
to lurch upright, but before I could, Tyson had coated his shaft with more of that slick jelly and pushed
himself right back inside me. “Yessssssssssssssss,” I hissed, clutching the sheets as he filled and filled
and filled me.

It hurt less this time but was just as overwhelming.

“Sean, look at me,” Tyson said sharply, wrapping his hands around my legs and holding me
against him.

My eyes popped open again. Why did they keep closing?

Tyson smiled. “That’s it, baby. I want to make sure you know who’s fucking you.”

My eyes went wide. And then, I couldn’t help it, I giggled. Crazy because we were… what we
were doing was… I mean, his thing was inside me and he was doing… doing that. You know, what
he’d just said. But I mean, he wanted me to know who… um, who else would it be?

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asked, still smiling down at me. Then he pulled back and slid
home again, sending a wave of… of sensation through me that turned my fit of giggles into a sound so
dirty I almost expected someone to pop up and wash my mouth out with soap.

“Jesus fuck, Sean,” Tyson said with a groan, doing it again. “You like that, huh, baby? Just like
that?”

Like it? No. Like definitely wasn’t big enough. I was being taken apart by it. I never wanted it to
end. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t touch my thing or if no one ever touched my thing, because the only
part of me that needed attention was the one he’d taken over. The part that was full of… of him. The
part that had stopped hurting entirely, or maybe just transformed the pain into something else, because
now nothing hurt and if Tyson didn’t move again I was going to… was going to scream.

He moved, and it felt so good that I did.

“Damn,” he said, his voice as gravelly as if he’d been the one who’d just screamed. “You do like
it. You were fucking made for it, sugar. I could fuck you forever.”

Oh God. Yes, please.

He thrust into me again and held himself there, grinding against my bottom so I could feel how
deep he was.

“Yes,” I sobbed, giggles forgotten as I bunched the sheets in my fists and strained against him,
wanting even more. “Please… please don’t stop. I… I like it. I need it. I want it forever. Tyson.”

“That’s right,” he growled. “Tell me who’s fucking you, sweetness.”

“You,” I gasped, my thing bouncing against my stomach as he pulled almost all the way out and
then slammed back into me like he needed more, too.

“Who?” he demanded, shifting my hips up a little and driving into me again even harder.

“Tyson,” I shouted, a wave of pleasure swamping me all at once as he hit the same spot his fingers
had found earlier. But this wasn’t just fingers, and oh my God. The difference was… was...

My legs started to shake.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said thickly, holding me right there and then doing it again… more…

harder… faster… over and over until he was panting like I was and I… I was quivering. The
fireworks were shooting off faster and faster inside me, but all on the inside as they built and built
and built. And then heat vibrated through my whole pelvis, deeper and more intense than when I made
a mess by rubbing my thing on the bed, and I knew I was going to explode.

It was unstoppable.

“So good for me, baby. Gonna… gonna make you come hands-free. Show me how good it feels to
take my cock. You know it’s yours now. Milk it for me with this sweet little ass. Let me see you… see
you… come… for me… Sean. Fuck.”

My back bowed up off the bed as I did it, crying out his name and spilling all over my stomach…

shooting across my chest… dripping even more mess onto his bed as he pushed me even higher,
thrusting inside me as I shook apart around him and then cursing again and filling me right up with his
cum, just like he’d promised.

“Fuck fuck fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice the only thing anchoring me as I started to float
away on all the warm, syrupy sensations. “So… so fucking good, sweetheart.”

And then he pushed my legs off his shoulders and gathered me up in his arms without ever coming
out of me, rolling both of us onto the bed and holding me so tight that it was impossible not to believe
in all the things he’d said to me.

I was his.

It really was perfect.

And as long as he kept holding me like this, I knew I didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

1 2

T Y S ON

“THE FUCK?” I muttered, cracking one eye open when some dickwad decided that it would be a good
idea to start off Sunday morning with some loud as fuck drum practice. I glanced at the clock on my
nightstand, which read too-goddamn-early-for-this-shit-o’clock, then grabbed the extra pillow I’d
started keeping on my bed for Sean lately and shoved it over my face to try to drown out the sound.

Nope.

That was a fail.

I tossed Sean’s pillow off the bed and glared up at the ceiling, seriously ready to get out of the
damn dorms and into that house with Brian already if this was the way my fellow dorm residents
were planning on ringing out the school year.

Sean wiggled against me as the pounding continued. “Do you want me to go see who it is?” he
asked sleepily, lifting his head up from his actual pillow—a.k.a. my shoulder—as he stifled a yawn.

“Who what is?” I asked, tucking him back down against my chest and deciding that maybe getting
up early wouldn’t be the most awful thing in the world when he wrapped himself right back around
me where he belonged, brushing a thigh across my morning wood.

I’d decided Sean and I should always sleep naked, and gotta admit, waking up at any hour to that
particular pleasure put a positive spin on the day no matter how inconsiderate one of our neighbors
was. I ran my hand down Sean’s back and squeezed his ass, wondering if it was still sore from the
night before.

Who was I kidding, of course it would be. Fine. Morning BJs it was.

“Um, who’s at the door?” Sean offered before I could get started on that, popping his head back
up and propping himself on my chest to look down at me. “Do you… do you want me to go check so
you can keep sleeping, Tyson?”

The pounding stopped and I blame how distractingly gorgeous he was in the morning—all soft
and sleepy and bleary-eyed and beautiful—for the length of time it took me to catch on to what he was
saying. But once I actually did… what the actual fuck? Sean was right. That hadn’t been drumming, it
had been some complete douche pounding on our front door at the crack of fucking dawn, and unless

Brian had suddenly found out he had an inoperable tumor or some shit and needed me to donate a
kidney before he keeled over and died, there was no fucking excuse in the world for anyone to be
starting out my Sunday that way.

The pounding started up again with a vengeance, and I moved Sean off me and rolled out of bed,
snatching up the pants I’d worn to the club the night before and pulling them on without bothering to
zip.

“Stay here, baby,” I said, even more pissed off at the interruption when he blinked up at me with
those big blue eyes of his, looking like pure temptation. “Your pretty little cock hard right now?” I
asked, earning a blush that went all the way down to his chest for the question.

He nodded, biting his lip, and pulled back the blanket to show me.

I grinned. “Good boy. Make sure it stays that way for me, sweetness, but no fucking my bed. Soon
as I deal with whatever the hell this bullshit is—” I jerked a thumb toward the sound of whoever it
was that had just made it onto my permanent shit list, “—I’m gonna want to do something about that.”

“Okay,” he said with a shy smile that fucking slayed me, his voice going all eager and breathless
like it always did when he was horny.

I was never gonna get tired of hearing him sound like that, and neither was my cock. In fact, I was
pretty sure I was gonna need to hear it every morning, which was maybe something to discuss with
him in detail later today so we could get our plans straightened out… and by discuss, I meant tell him
the way it was gonna go down since there really wasn’t any doubt that he wanted to be with me, too.

I scrubbed a hand over my face as the pounding on our door paused for a moment before picking
back up again. Jesus. I wasn’t ever gonna forget that needy, adoring look on Sean’s face last night
when he told me he belonged to me before taking all eight inches of my cock like he’d been born for
it. Giving him up, even for the summer, just wasn’t an option.

“Be right back, baby,” I promised, turning away before I gave in to temptation and decided to
ignore the door and do what I really wanted. After all, Brian could need a kidney, and how much of a
dick would I be if I let my buddy die just so I could get my cock sucked? I mean, I may have been a
selfish son of a bitch, but I wasn’t totally without a conscience, you know?

It wasn’t Brian at the door, though.

“Uh, you guys in the right place?” I asked, my pissed-the-fuck-off taking a backseat to confused
when I opened it to find a starched-up dude in a suit staring at his phone while murmuring into a

Bluetooth as a pinch-lipped blonde lady raised her fist like she’d been about to start pounding on my
door again. He looked like one of the money-types who loved to wave alumni flags at our games and
get photo ops with the players after every win, and she was twice the age that a college student should
be despite having obviously had enough plastic surgery to try and make her look like one. But nope.

No way was this chick a day under forty, and if these two belonged here in the dorms, I’d start
checking the weather report for news of hell freezing over.

“I suspect so,” the lady said in a clipped voice that was one hundred percent pure bitch while her
man continued to be more interested in his phone call than the fact that they’d just dragged me away
from my favorite part of the day. “And you must be Tyson Matthew Graham, correct? Athletic
scholarship, barely holding onto the requisite 2.3 GPA, on the radar of several professional sports
teams as a possible draft pick after graduation but with no fallback plan outside of athletics if your
academic record is any indication.”

Yeah… and? Her fucking point was? Jesus. I didn’t need a fucking guidance counselor and I did
have some shit lined up if football fell through, thank you very much. If this was what she’d dragged
my ass out of bed and away from my boy for, she could fuck right the hell off.

“Yeah, I’m Tyson,” I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I stared her down. “And?”

Her nostrils flared, her eyes skimming down my body and lingering long enough on my package to
remind me that I was both unzipped and commando. I reached down and remedied one of those things,
because sorry, sister. Even if my junk hadn’t already been spoken for, girl parts had always given me
a soft-on and ones who looked like they’d just sucked lemons and dressed like someone’s country
club, stick-up-the-ass mom? Hell, no. Not even if I’d been straight and into cougars, thank you very
much. This chick was—

Wait a fucking minute. My eyes narrowed. She was dressed like a mom.

I looked her over again. Slim and short, check. And even though her version of blonde was
obviously from a bottle and was about three shades lighter than my boy’s, those blue eyes of hers
were exactly like Sean’s… well, exact in terms of color and shape.

The ugly, condescending look in them, though? Yeah, no. They didn’t look anything alike.

It still didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who she was, though.

“And... upon requesting additional information from the dean, I wonder if allowing my son to
share housing with you hasn’t contributed to his poor academic performance this year,” she said,
managing to both confirm my guess and piss me the fuck off all over again with that dig at Sean.

Poor performance? Yeah, no. He was a goddamn rock star with all his school shit.

“No matter, though,” Mama Hell Bitch said brusquely, making a shooing motion with her hand as
she took a step forward like she actually thought I’d move out of the way and let her inside. “I’m sure
once he’s away from your influence he’ll— excuse me.”

Her man glanced up from the phone he’d been tapping away on as she bounced off my chest, then
pressed his lips together like he disapproved of the entire fucking world but couldn’t be bothered to
do anything about it. “I’ll be waiting in the town car, Bianca,” he murmured, his eyes flicking over me
dismissively. “Please deal with this quickly, hm?”

Then he turned his back on the two of us, one hand going to his ear to press against his Bluetooth
as he went back to his call, and walked away.

She glared at his back for a hot second, then turned the glare back on me. “You’re in my way, Mr.

Graham. Please step aside.”

“What, you actually think I’m gonna let you in or something?” I asked the woman who’d fucked up
my boy in too many ways to count, not moving an inch.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, Sean was still fucking perfect, okay? But any way you looked at it,
the shit she’d pulled on him was still fifty shades of wrong. And even if the result was some shit that I
personally got off on—because not gonna lie, even if he ever got over not being able to touch himself,

I still might not let him since it was hot as fuck to be the one in charge of that pretty little cock of his

—the way she’d cut him off from his own damn dick and made him feel all warped about basic sex
shit definitely qualified as fucked up.

Her face got ugly. “My husband and I pay for this dormitory, so yes, Mr. Graham, I do think you’re
going to let me in,” she said sharply. “Donald and I are here to collect our son. Sean’s failure to stay
in communication over the past few weeks is unacceptable, and we’ve already spoken with the dean
about an early withdrawal with full credit, given that Sean’s academic performance has at least
warranted that much.”

I snorted. “Yeah, no. You don’t pay for this shit, bitch. Sean’s got that covered, and if you think

I’m letting you in to ‘collect’ him—”

“I really don’t see why you’d have any say in the matter at all,” she said, raising her voice to talk
over me. “Sean is my son—”

“No,” I bit out, seeing red. She had no right to claim him at fucking all.

She blinked at the interruption. Then, “Excuse me?” she said icily. “Are you delusional? I’m his
mother.”

“You don’t fucking deserve him.”

Her nostrils flared again. “Do I need to call campus security, Mr. Graham? This really doesn’t
concern you. If Sean is inside—”

“Everything about Sean concerns me,” I corrected her in what may or may not have been a shout,
getting really fucking close to losing my cool even if she was half my size and female and whatnot.

“You’re mistaken,” she snapped, getting about as close to shouting as I was. “Sean is—”

“Here, Mother.”

His hand fluttered over my bare back, nudging me to the side so he could peek out at her. And
even though his voice trembled and the words were about eight million decibels quieter than the ones
me and the bitch had been tossing at each other, it still shut us both up.

Well, for a second.

“Thought I told you to stay in the room, Sean,” I growled, really fucking tempted to pick him up
and take him back there myself so I could keep him the fuck away from the sorry excuse for a mother
who mistakenly thought she had a right to him.

Swear to God, if she laid so much as a finger on him, if she said anything that even looked like it
hurt him, if those pretty eyes of his welled up with one single fucking tear because of her being here,
it was over. She could call all the damn security she wanted, but no way in hell was I letting her fuck
with my boy, not ever again.

“Your father and I are extremely disappointed,” Bitch said to him, pretending to ignore me
completely even though she had to basically look through me to address him given that I was doing my
best impression of an impenetrable wall, still blocking her access and managing to shield about ninety
percent of my boy simply by refusing to move.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Sean said, not touching me at all anymore but still standing close enough that

I could feel him shaking. “I was just—”

Oh, fuck no.

“You don’t have any damn thing to be sorry to her about, baby,” I interrupted, turning my back on
her and tipping his chin up. “Not ever. Remember what I told you?”

His eyes widened, but he kept them locked on me, not her, making my heart swell. Then he
nodded, just the tiniest bit.

“Good boy,” I said, wanting to kiss him so damn bad. And yeah, I wasn’t normally one to deny
myself what I wanted—and definitely not when it came to sweet little Sean, not anymore—but this
wasn’t the time or place, not until we got rid of her.

Fuck.

I mean, not until… until Sean got rid of her.

Could I close the door in her face or frog-march her back to the town car Sean’s piece of shit
excuse for a father had already fucked off to? ’Course I could. But would that keep her out of my
boy’s life?

I fucking wished it would, but this wasn’t my first rodeo when it came to watching someone
important to me face down the fucktwat who’d abused them. I knew my boy liked me being in charge

—and not just of his dick and that sweet little ass I couldn’t wait to get back inside at the earliest
opportunity—but if he was ever gonna break free of her, she was going to have to hear it from him,
hear it and believe it, or she’d never back the fuck off.

That didn’t mean he had to think he was in this fight alone, though.

“You got something to say to your mom, sweetness?” I asked. “Because I’m right here to make
sure she fucking pays attention.”

Sean’s face was bone-white, eyes so wide they looked like they were about to pop out and that
flutter of a pulse at the base of his throat going so fast I was afraid it might burst. I fucking hated this
bitch, but since she wasn’t the important one right now I schooled my face not to show that shit and
kept eyes on my boy, seriously reconsidering my stance on not just kicking her the fuck out and
dealing with it another day.

Brian was right, I was so sprung for Sean there was no point trying to deny it… not that I would. I
would never deny him, just like I would never let anyone fucking hurt him, not for anything.

“Mr. Graham, I need to talk to my son alone,” said the bitch who apparently hadn’t gotten the
memo on that last bit yet, because yeah, no. No fucking way was that going to happen.

I tucked him behind me, more than happy to set her straight about that.

“Sean isn’t ever gonna be alone. He’s got me now.”

She did that nostril flaring thing again, looking me up and down like she wanted to pull a Scott

Summers on me this time and cut me down with her eyes.

Fail.

“I’m sure I don’t know what that means,” she clipped out when her Cyclops laser-eye impression
just bounced off me, pursing her lips so hard they got little white lines around them. “My son isn’t—”

“Told you,” I interrupted. “You don’t get to call him that.”

“He is that,” she shouted, red blotches appearing on her cheeks. “He’s my—”

“No,” I corrected her yet a-fucking-gain, getting right up in her face with zero fucks given
anymore for the whole don’t-intimidate-a-woman thing. “He’s mine now.”

And fuck if I wasn’t his, too.

“This is ridiculous,” she finally spat out after I won our stare-off. She broke first—of course she
did because I sure as fuck was never going to—looking over my shoulder at Sean. “We’ll continue
this conversation elsewhere, Sean,” she said like she actually still thought she was in charge here.

“Your father has a car waiting.”

“He’s not going.”

“He’s—”

“Not.”

“You don’t get to—”

“Tyson.”

Sean’s voice was so quiet I probably shouldn’t have been able to hear him what with the way his
mama’s voice and mine had been escalating again, but this was my boy. Of course I was gonna hear
him.

“You want me to get rid of her, baby?” I asked, turning back to him and locked and loaded to do
just that.

But—

“No,” he whispered, his eyes darting past me for a split second to look her way. His face went
impossibly whiter, then he straightened his shoulders—looked like he’d grabbed one of my practice
jerseys to throw on when he came out of the room so he looked even smaller, swimming in it, and it
was all I could do not to wrap him up in my arms to shield him from the bitch who’d spawned him—
and repeated it a little stronger. “No, Tyson. Don’t… don’t make her leave.”

…

…

…what?

My heart fucking stopped, then got jumpstarted into overdrive with a surge of adrenaline that
almost made me puke. No way was Sean leaving me. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going with her. But
then she made a smug little sound of triumph from behind me and Sean slipped around me before I
could do anything about it, putting himself exactly where I didn’t want him—within arm’s reach of her
again—and for the first time in years, since way the fuck back before my mom had finally stood up to
my sorry excuse for a father and kicked him to the curb, I felt one hundred percent helpless.

Oh, fuck.

I was going to lose him.

1 3

S E A N

I WAS SO SCARED I was shaking, but I couldn’t stand the thought of losing Tyson just to try and make

Mother happy. She was never happy with me anyway, no matter how hard I tried, and even though a
big part of me had wanted to say yes and just let Tyson deal with it, another part of me—one I hadn’t
even known was there—wanted to tell her to leave myself.

Maybe I’d always wanted to tell her myself.

I couldn’t do it without Tyson at my back, though. It was almost as scary to let myself believe I
could count on him the way all the nice things he always said seemed to imply as it was to face down
my mother, but I did believe in Tyson.

He was the opposite of everything I’d ever known before. Before, no matter what I did, I could
always count on it being wrong, but with Tyson, no matter what I did, he kept telling me it was... that
it was not just right, but perfect. And even though I’d never expected him to even notice me, much
less want anything more from me than he had from the other boys he used to always bring around,
everything he did, every single day, made it seem like maybe I’d been wrong about that.

That last part was what made me feel brave. Words didn’t always mean what it sounded like they
did, like the way my parents always used to say they loved me and were doing things for my own
good, but then… then ended up doing things that hurt me instead. Tyson, on the other hand, had never
said he loved me—and of course I would never be greedy enough to expect that from him—but he
said so many other nice things, all the time, and then did things that made me feel… well, like what I
imagine it must feel like to be loved.

So even if it was scary, how could I not believe in him?

I swayed backward, just a little, just enough to bump into the solid bulk of him behind me and
reassure myself that he was really there.

“Mother—” I started to say, then had to stop and swallow hard when my stomach tried to launch
itself out of my throat from nerves.

“Sean,” she said before I could get another word out anyway, giving me a tight smile followed by
a disapproving look as she took in my appearance with a single, scathing glance. She didn’t mention
that I’d obviously just rolled out of bed even though it was already past eight o’clock in the morning,
though, or the fact that I was dressed in someone else’s clothes. She just launched right into ordering
me around like she always did. “I can’t say I appreciate the delay, but I suppose it’s something to see
that at least you still know what’s good for you. Now get some shoes on and come along. You don’t
want to keep your father waiting.”

Tyson’s whole body tensed behind me, and I could see his hands twitch out of my peripheral
vision, like he wanted to grab me.

I wished he would, but he didn’t, and I could still do this. I wanted to do this.

“You’re right, Mother,” I said even though I still felt like I was about to throw up. “I… I do know
what’s good for me.”

“Sean,” Tyson growled quietly behind me, crowding even closer but still not reaching for me.

“Tyson’s what’s good for me,” I said, my voice only quavering a little bit.

“Jesus, baby,” he muttered on an explosive breath, finally grabbing onto me like I’d hoped he
would. His big hands wrapped around my waist and yanked me back even more firmly against him,
and even though my heart still felt like it was trying to beat its way out of my chest, my stomach
calmed right down now that he was holding me again.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself to go on.

“I’ve got you,” Tyson murmured, which made me so grateful I almost cried.

“I… I don’t care about leaving Father waiting,” I said to Mother defiantly even though I knew it
was disrespectful and that she didn’t put up with defiance. But… but that didn’t matter now. I lifted
my chin, holding her gaze. “Neither of you should have come all the way out here because I’m not…

I’m not... leaving.”

Mother’s face had been steadily turning redder and meaner while I talked, making my throat
tighten up so much that by the last bit I could barely get the words out at all, but Tyson squeezed me
even tighter, so I knew that no matter how mad she got, it would still be okay.

And oh God, she was definitely mad.

“Sean Geoffrey Cabot,” she hissed, her voice lashing out like a whip the way it always did when

I was in real trouble. “That is unacceptable. I don’t know what kind of depraved things you’ve gotten
up to here—” her eyes flicked down to where Tyson had his arms around me, “—but it’s clear that
you can’t be trusted so far away from home. Now quit acting out and do as you’re told.”

She was shouting by the end, the cords standing out in her neck, and if Tyson hadn’t been holding
onto me, I would have been really scared.

I mean, I still kind of was, actually.

“You’re… you’re not in charge of me anymore, Mother,” I whispered anyway, breaking out in a
cold sweat and starting to shake even though I knew Tyson wouldn’t let her get at me. “I don’t have to
do what you—”

“Yes, you do,” she snapped, cutting me off. “You’re clearly still too young to make good choices.

You need your parents. You need our guidance. You need—”

“What he fucking needs is someone who loves him, bitch,” Tyson interrupted, making my heart
rate spike for a whole new reason. “And that’s sure as fuck not you.” He spun me around to face him,
holding my shoulders and staring down at me like he was trying to burn right into my soul with his
eyes. “Sean, baby, tell her to leave.”

I could.

He’d told me to and I wanted to and I could.

Before I did, though, Mother grabbed me... and Tyson moved so fast I got dizzy.

“Oh, hell no,” he spat, knocking her hand away and getting between us. “You don’t get to touch
him. Not ever again. And if he’s not gonna tell you to leave, I—”

“I’ll tell her to leave,” I said, suddenly not scared at all anymore.

Tyson’s mouth snapped closed at my interruption because even though I knew he liked to be in
charge most of the time—well, okay, really all of the time, which was basically the only heaven I
ever wanted to be a part of—for some reason, he also believed in me, too. I could tell he did,
because even though he was so mad it would have been awful if it had been directed at me, it wasn’t.

The look he gave me wasn’t mad at all. It was the kind that made my insides feel fluttery and warm,
and for a moment, I almost forgot all about Mother.

Tyson believed in me.

And just now, he’d also sort of implied that he might… might love me. Or at least, that someone
should… so maybe it could be him?

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said, giving my shoulders a reassuring squeeze and smiling down at me
like it was just the two of us... and like maybe it was him. “Do it.”

He stepped aside but put his hand low on my back so I couldn’t forget he was still there, and even
though Mother looked disgusted and angry and just as terrifying as she always had when she got mad,
my stomach didn’t hurt at all.

Tyson was right. She needed to leave, and just the feel of his hand on me was almost like a
forcefield or something. Just like he always said, only he had the right to touch me now. He’d just
proven that he wouldn’t let her do it anymore, and… and neither would I. Not ever again.

I took a deep breath.

Then one more.

“You’ve got this,” Tyson murmured.

He was right. I did.

“You need to leave, Mother,” I said, not shaking at all. “And don’t… don’t come back.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Your father and I paid for—”

“Nothing that matters,” I dared to interrupt. “You can have it all back. And... and I don’t want
anything else from you, either.”

“You ungrateful brat,” she hissed. “Do you know what we’ve sacrificed for you?”

Not really, no. Even though she always said stuff like that, I honestly wasn’t really sure what my
parents had ever given up for me or why I’d always been such a burden when I’d never done anything
but try to be good for them. I’d thought about it a lot. Tried so many things to be better. But now…

well, now I guess I just wanted it to end.

“I’m sorry,” I said reflexively, which made Tyson’s eyes get all stormy. I swallowed. “But

Mother, I never made you happy anyway, so just… just go.”

She opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, but Tyson didn’t let her.

“That means now, bitch,” he said, tucking me behind him again and pointing toward the parking
lot. “You heard my boy. He wants you gone, and you’re not welcome in his life anymore.”

She looked so mad at Tyson that I would have been worried about him if he hadn’t been, well,

Tyson. He would never let her hurt him.

“You’ll regret this,” she finally said to me, spitting the words out as her fist clenched open and
closed at her side, no doubt itching to slap me or worse. “He’ll get tired of you, and you will not be
welcomed back into our home after this… this disgusting display of defiance.”

She spun on her heel and stalked off before I could answer, and my knees suddenly felt like they’d
turned to water. I clutched at Tyson’s arm. Oh, God. What if… what if she was right? She’d known me
all my life and still didn’t love me. Tyson had only known me for a year. Less than a year. So how
could I really hope that he’d—

“She’s wrong, baby,” Tyson said, cutting into the escalating spiral of my fears as if he’d somehow
read my mind. He wrapped his arms around me and then picked me up completely, squeezing me so
tight that I couldn’t breathe for a moment before burying his face in the crook of my neck. I wrapped
myself around him and held on tight, and he took a deep breath that shuddered right through him, then
grabbed the back of my head with one hand and kissed me hard. “How could I ever get tired of you
when I can’t ever get enough?” he asked, his voice all gravelly. “I’m so damn proud of you,
sweetness.”

It felt so good to hear. He meant it. I knew he did. But... the ugly seed of doubt that my mother had
planted wouldn’t let go.

“But, Tyson,” I said tentatively, not sure I really wanted to hear the answer but suddenly too
anxious not to ask. “What if you—”

“No,” he cut me off, carrying me back inside and kicking the door shut behind us.

I swallowed. “But, someday, you might want—”

“You.”

I bit my lip, wanting so hard to believe. “But—”

“Always, Sean,” Tyson interrupted me, his hands cupping my bottom as he turned and pressed me
against the door, my legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. “It’s always gonna be you.” He was
smiling down at me like he really, truly meant it. And then, making my heart stutter, he added in that
stern, bossy voice that always made me feel so safe, “I fucking love you, baby. Quit doubting, because
that’s the way it is and it’s not gonna change.”

I stopped moving, stopped breathing, didn’t want to do a single thing that might make him change
his mind or take it back.

He didn’t.

And then... he still didn’t.

“You… you love me?” I finally asked, my heart racing. “Are you sure, Tyson?”

“Sean,” he said, shaking his head but still smiling. “’Course I’m sure. Jesus. How could I not love
you? Every single thing about you is fucking perfect, and even if you change, you’re still gonna be
fucking perfect, because you’re… you’re mine. And because you’re you. So damn sweet I could
never want anything else. Strong enough to tell your mama to fuck off but still my boy, right? Still
always gonna let me take care of you. Still so damn eager to make me happy all the time, when baby,
you gotta know… I’m always gonna want to make you happy.”

“You do,” I said, almost dizzy from all the nice things he was saying. They were making me feel
warm and syrupy and floaty and good. So good I almost felt guilty about it... except that my mother
was out of my life now and it was really hard to feel guilty about nice things without her always
looking over my shoulder, so to speak.

Which just hit me.

I’d told her to leave and she’d left.

I was… I was free.

“Oh my God, Tyson,” I gasped, suddenly almost giddy with excitement. “I’m in love with you,
too!”

He grinned. “Thought so.”

“And… you do love me,” I said, sort of amazed as I let it sink in.

“Yep, already called that one,” he said, squeezing my bottom and winking at me. “You need to
hear it again, baby? Need me to prove it to you or something? Because for a minute there, seemed like
you might not be sure.”

“No,” I said, blushing. He didn’t need to prove it. He already had. He was right now. He did
every day. But then, because it was Tyson and he loved me and I knew it would be okay even if it was
a little greedy of me, I added, “But you can still say it again if you want to.”

“I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, Sean,” he said, letting go of my bottom so my feet
slid down to the floor and then cupping my face. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but the way he was
looking at me was almost better. “Love you, baby. Didn’t honestly know I had it in me, but guess that
was just because I hadn’t found you yet.”

My eyes started to sting. Dumb, I know, because I felt so happy I could burst, but I couldn’t seem
to help it.

“Nah,” Tyson said, leaning down to kiss away my tears before they could fall. “I’m always gonna
love you, and I’m talking the till-death-do-us-part kind of always, so these aren’t required anymore,
okay?”

“Okay,” I said, crying a little harder even though he’d just told me not to. I sniffled, pressing my
cheek against his hand, and tried to stop.

But… forever?

Did he really mean that?

Because I wanted it more than anything. I didn’t ever want him to get tired of me.

“I think I’m going to love you forever, too,” I whispered... even though the truth was that I didn’t
just think it, I knew it for sure.

“Damn right you are,” Tyson said, going all bossy-voice on me as he gripped my chin and made
me look up at him. “You’re it for me, Sean Cabot, and I’ll tell you that every goddamn day if you need
to hear it. Every hour. I’m gonna take care of you so well, baby. I don’t ever want you to doubt it, not
even for a minute. And I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you again, got it? Not ever.”

“Nothing hurts when I’m with you, Tyson,” I said, which was totally true. He loved me, and I was
pretty sure I would never hurt again.

He gave me a naughty smile, reaching around to squeeze my bottom. “Nothing, huh? So you’re
saying you’re already recovered from last night?”

I bit my lip, heat flushing through me.

My bottom was sore, actually, but oh God, it had been so worth it.

Tyson laughed. “Thought so, baby, but don’t worry. I’ll give your sweet little ass some recovery
time.”

“Do you have to?” I blurted before I could censor myself. Sore or not, I would always want to be
with him that way. Any way. All the ways.

Tyson’s eyes widened, then he grinned, his eyes doing the half-moon thing that made my heart
glow from having made him happy. “Fuck, I love you so damn much,” he said, crowding me back
against the wall and kissing me until I forgot what we’d even been talking about. Then he squeezed
my bottom again, pulling me up against him and looking down at me with a naughty smirk. “And yeah,
baby, I do have to let it rest a bit, at least until you’re used to taking my cock the way I plan on giving
it to you. And I’m in charge, remember? So no arguing. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna neglect you.

Pretty sure I promised to do something about that hard-on you were supposed to keep up for me this
morning, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Tyson,” I said breathlessly, because I was hard again after all that kissing. I pushed my thing
against his thigh, shameless and happy and excited the way only he could make me. “Now, please?”

“Dirty boy,” he said, smacking my bottom hard enough to make my thing jump. He grinned down
at me. “Stop trying to get yourself off. You know that’s my job.”

And then he did it, right there against the wall.

Oh, God.

He was so good to me.

And I was the luckiest boy in the world, because he loved me, he would always love me, even—
maybe especially—when I was bad.

— the end —

Want more? Flip the page for a free preview of My Brother’s Love, a taboo m/m
romance available now on Smashwords.

S NE A K P E E K

M Y B R OT HE R ’ S L OV E

CHAPTER ONE

Jonah

I HAD my eyes closed as usual while Kayla sucked me off, my hands tangled in her hair while I
desperately pretended that after two years, I wasn’t still pretending every sexual encounter I had was
with someone else. When my phone rang with the rarely heard ringtone I’d reserved for my mother, I
pulled Kayla off my half-hard dick with a guilty sense of relief.

She looked up with wide eyes, wiping her mouth. “You’re actually going to answer that? Now?”

“Have to,” I lied, even though I was pretty sure Kayla knew that I generally followed a strict
straight-to-voicemail policy whenever my parents rang. “It’s almost Christmas.”

“You’re not even going home for winter break,” she said, her cock-swollen lips thinning into an
angry line. “And I still don’t understand why you won’t come home with me. We’ve been together for
over a year! My parents want to meet you.”

We’d been dating since the beginning of our sophomore year of college, but God help me, there
was no way in hell I ever wanted to meet her parents. Even if my own had always been more of the
neglect-and-let-the-nanny-deal-with-it school of parenting, from everything Kayla had said, her
family was close. I was sure they’d see right through me.

“I think we should break up,” Kayla said, dropping her bombshell in a hard voice as I swiped to
answer my mother’s call.

Well, fuck. She was right, of course, but where would that leave me? I held up a finger to ask her
to hold the thought, knowing for sure that I was the world’s biggest asshole.

“Hello, Mother,” I said, tucking away my softening dick and standing up to step around Kayla. She
glared up at me, but I ignored it, my heart suddenly hammering as a horrible thought hit me.

I’d already told my parents the lie about having an internship over winter break, so they weren’t
expecting to see me. Since they weren’t the type to get sentimental or contact me simply because it
was the holiday season, there had to be a reason for the call.

“Is Caleb—I mean, is everyone okay?” I asked, clenching my fist tight as I waited for her answer.

If something had happened to my brother, I’d know, right? Just because I’d been avoiding him, it
didn’t mean we weren’t still… well, not close anymore, of course—that was too dangerous—but
connected.

A long-suffering sigh sounded on the other end of the line. “No, your father and I are not okay,

Jonah,” Mother said. “Your brother has been difficult lately—”

“What happened?” I interrupted, ignoring the sound of Kayla rustling around the room behind me.

“Nothing happened,” Mother said in a tight voice. “But his attitude has been wearing on us. It’s
really more than I can take, especially during the holidays. We’ve decided to go to Aspen for

Christmas to try to decompress.”

I blinked, torn between wanting to press her on what exactly was wrong with Caleb’s “attitude”

and trying to figure out why she was telling me this. My brother wasn’t even remotely athletic and he
hated being cold, so I wasn’t sure how a skiing holiday was supposed to help him “decompress.”

Then again, our parents had never been the type to actually pay attention to their sons, so it shouldn’t
have surprised me that they’d be clueless about how to help him.

I could help him.

I clamped down hard on that thought before it could get away from me. Caleb was three years
younger than me, and from the moment he’d come home from the hospital, he’d been mine. Our
nannies used to think it was cute how I’d coddled and taken care of him, but I’d fallen head over heels
for the cute little bugger the minute he’d blinked those big baby blues up at me and cooed, and from
day one, I hadn’t wanted to let him out of my sight. We’d been inseparable right up until I’d left home
for college—something that had about killed me to do, even though I knew it was weird to feel like
leaving your baby brother was ripping a piece of your heart out. And college life had been great, but

I’d still counted down the days during my freshman year until I could go home for Thanksgiving and
see him again.

Caleb had been fifteen, and that Thanksgiving had been the last time I’d gone home.

“Are you seriously going to ignore what I just said?” Kayla hissed from behind me, smacking my
shoulder as Mother started to rattle off something about their itinerary in my ear.

I turned back to face Kayla with a familiar feeling of guilt. She really did deserve better. I pulled
the phone away from my ear and covered the speaker for a second.

“Sorry, babe. And you’re right, we should. I just need a minute to make sure my baby brother is

—”

“Are you serious?” she snapped, cutting me off. “I’m right? That’s all you have to say after a year
together? I say we should break up, and you say I’m right?”

I shrugged one shoulder, not sure how to respond. I guess she wanted me to fight for her, but I’m
pretty sure that would make me an even bigger asshole than I already was for having dated her in the
first place when I really wanted someone else.

“Jonah, are you listening to me?” Mother asked sharply, her voice clearly audible from the
phone’s tiny speaker. “We need to book the flights.”

I put it back up to my ear, mouthing “sorry” to Kayla. I meant it, too.

“Yes, Mother,” I said as Kayla narrowed her eyes at me. “Aspen for Christmas. I heard. I hope the
three of you have a good time.”

I really hope she hadn’t been asking me to join them. I loved skiing and ached to see Caleb again,
but I was going to keep right on doing the right thing, no matter how many pieces of my heart it ripped
out. Of course, without Kayla around to distract me, that was going to be even harder than usual, but

—

“You weren’t listening at all,” Mother said, sounding exasperated. “Of course Caleb’s not coming
to Aspen. We need some space from him. That’s the whole point. All his moping is absolutely ruining
the holidays.”

Moping? Caleb was sad? That’s what had my parents running away? I thought they’d meant he’d
gotten into some kind of trouble, but hearing this was almost worse.

“Jesus, you’re a real prick, Jonah,” Kayla said, snatching up her purse and storming toward the
door. “Don’t call me.”

I nodded, earning some harsher profanity as she slammed the door behind her, but she’d already
lost my attention.

“What do you mean Caleb’s not going to Aspen?” I asked my mother, anger surging inside me. My
baby brother needed something, and instead of giving it to him, they were running away. “You’re
seriously going to leave him all alone at Christmas?”

I squeezed my eyes closed, breathing deeply to avoid some profanity of my own. I wasn’t naive
enough to think that family holidays had suddenly become all warm and cozy over the last few years
without me there, but even if my parents had no doubt mostly ignored him, actually leaving him was
fucking cold.

Of course, it’s exactly what I’d done, but that was different.

“Of course we can’t leave him alone,” Mother said, clearly impatient. “We don’t trust him here on
his own. Who knows what he might get up to.”

I ground my teeth together. Caleb had always been a good kid. Didn’t they know him at all?

“But since we already gave the staff time off,” Mother went on, “you’re going to have to take care
of him, Jonah. Your father and I have discussed it, and you’ll need to decline the internship you
mentioned. With our connections, we’ll make sure you have other opportunities in the future, but right
now, the family’s needs take precedence.”

The family’s needs? What about Caleb’s needs? Then I caught on to what she was actually saying.

“Wait, what?” I asked, my heart starting to pound. “Are you saying that you want me to… to come
home?”

See Caleb again?

Spend weeks with him?

Alone? Without even the staff?

“Yes,” Mother said, a hard edge creeping into her voice. “And I’m sorry, son, but this isn’t a
choice. In order for your father and I to keep funding your education and your lifestyle, we’re going to
need you to come back and watch over your brother while we’re gone.”

I froze in shock. Was she seriously threatening to cut me off if I didn’t go home and keep Caleb
company over winter break? Tasking me with keeping him out of trouble? Of taking care of him, the
way I always used to?

It should have pissed me off. I wanted it to. But God help me, a hot surge of elation rushed
through me instead, making me almost giddy. I’d been good. I’d stayed away. I’d cut off our
relationship even though it had felt like cutting off a limb—because I always took care of him, and
that had been the only way I’d known how to do it. How to protect him from me. But now my parents
were forcing my hand, and the idea of finally seeing my baby brother again woke something up in me
that made me feel alive for the first time in years.

Mother sighed on the other end of the phone. “I really am sorry to spring this on you, Jonah,” she
said, her voice getting as close to soft as I’d ever heard it. “But we just don’t know what to do with
him. You’re the only one who ever did, and he’s been… well, he’s been different since you left. It’s
like he’s lost without you around to guide him. You were always so good with him.”

I swallowed hard, a lifetime of memories assaulting me.

Teach me how, Jonah.

I want to be good for you.

Are you proud of me?

“I’ll be there,” I promised, my voice thick. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll… I’ll give him whatever he
needs.”

And God help us both if he still needed me the way he did before… because I didn’t think I’d
have the strength to walk away a second time.

Want to keep reading? My Brother’s Love is available now on Smashwords!

A L S O B Y CHA R A CR OF T

My Brother’s Love

Everything He Needs

A B O U T T H E A U T H O R

Chara Croft writes other love stories under other pen names, but once upon a time someone suggested she write a particularly dirty and
delicious kind of story as a Christmas gift for a friend. That friend, Courtney Bassett, loved her gift ( My Brother’s Love) and urged Chara to share it with others. Given that Chara had dozens of other stories half-started on her hard drive featuring brothers who love each other a little too much, spanking spanking so much spanking, age play, ABDL, daddy kink, all forms of denial, cock cages, non-con,
dub-con, and other hard and soft kinks that would never fit on the pen names she usually writes under, the chance to launch a pen name
strictly for those was a gift right back.

If you enjoyed these boys and would like to read some of the other dirty things swimming around in Chara’s head in the future, please
consider leaving a review and signing up for Chara’s newsletter so that she can let you know when she writes something else taboo or
kinky enough to be published under this pen name.

Subscribe to Chara’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/gnXL99

Mwah!

Document Outline

- Title Page
- Copyright
- Trigger Warning
- Contents
- 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
- Sneak Peek
- Also by Chara Croft
- About the Author

Table of Contents

- 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
- Sneak Peek
- Also by Chara Croft
- About the Author
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Trigger Warning
- Contents