Page 43 of Too Hostile

Summer.

This is for the summer only. I can’t get blinded by this... God, what do you even call it? Chemistry? We definitely have off-the-charts chemistry. But it feels like even more than that.

I try to shake that off. Push it away because it can’t happen, and he must sense I’m struggling with something because he pushes open his door. “Come on, Professor. I’ll show you around.”

I don’t even hate when he says Professor like that anymore. Except for it most certainly does things to my dick. And after last night and this morning in the shower, you’d think I’d be sated.

But I’m starting to truly worry I’ll never get enough of him.

Oh, how things have changed.

We grab our bags, and he lets us into the house. It’s nice, but it’s not overly fancy. It’s cozy. I can definitely see the charm to it.

“So I’m pretty sure Rhett and Grayson use the loft room up there.” He points upward, and I see a spiral staircase leading up to a room, then look back at Fletcher. “And I’m not touching that. So we should stay in one of the other rooms.”

I grin. “Sounds good.”

He leads me down the hall to a fairly large bedroom with an attached bathroom. “Blair may have convinced Grayson to let her add on a couple of rooms recently. He can’t say no to her either.”

His mom sounds like she’s really something else. And I can’t help thinking that I really want to meet her someday. My heart clenches tightly in my chest so hard I actually rub my hand over that spot.

I don’t even bother reminding myself that we only have the summer. Fletcher places his bag on the bed, and I do the same before he turns to me, his smile bright and infectious.

It takes my mind off the gloom and doom it was on, and then his lips meet mine, and it takes all of two seconds to completely forget what I was upset about.

“I can’t believe you agreed to come here with me,” he says against my lips, and it breaks my heart. I’ve been such an asshole to him. And not just before I really started to get to know him, but even recently.

Because he’s let me in. Despite everything that’s happened in his life. Despite being abandoned by people who should have cared about him the most. He’s good. He’s so infinitely good, and he still has trust.

He trusts me.

And I haven’t given him anything back.

It’s not fair at all, and I want to tell him everything about me. I want to fully explain why I’m such a closed-off asshole, but I can’t get the words out. And not only because Fletcher currently has his tongue shoved in my mouth, his flesh sweeping over mine. His hard body is pressed up against me as his fingers glide through my hair.

I want to tell him.

But of course, I don’t. I let myself get lost in his kiss and his touch. I take my time pulling his tank top up and over his head before I kiss every inch of his bare torso. His muscles flex as I drag my tongue through the lines of his sculpted abs. He tips his head back as I lower to my knees in front of him, his hands on my shoulders as I remove his shoes and lower his shorts.

His cock springs free because he wasn’t wearing any underwear. He kicks the shorts away as I stare at his steely length, the tip glistening with arousal. “Goddamn, that’s hot,” I breathe as I grasp his hard shaft in my hand, slowly stroking him.

“Oh fuck. Please, Ronan.” I smile.

“Oh, you’re begging me, huh?” I have to tease him a little bit. I run my tongue down the length of his erection, swirling it around the tip, but not staying there too long before I drag my tongue down the other side of him.

“Please,” he gasps again.

I’ll never tire of the raspy sound of ecstasy coming from Fletcher. I don’t put him out of his misery just yet though. Instead, I kiss both of his hip bones, one and then the other, my hand on his shaft but not moving. My tongue trails over his thigh and down to his heavy balls, swirling around them and teasing before I take one and then the other into my mouth.

“Ronan,” he gasps. “I want to come.” His fingers dig into my shoulder. “I need to come.”

He’s desperate for it, panting heavily, his hips thrusting forward, trying to get some relief from my hand. When I finally take pity on him and take him into my mouth, he lets out a relieved curse, one of his hands going into my hair. “Yes. Just like that. Please, Ronan. Please please please,” he chants as he punches his hips forward.

I let him fuck my throat until it’s aching, but I don’t care because watching Fletcher take his pleasure is the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

“I’m so close. So damn close.” He sounds breathless, and I can’t resist reaching into my shorts—yes, I’m actually wearing shorts today, and I’m not even planning on running. Of course, he teased me a little when he saw I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts instead of a suit and tie, but I think he liked it. And I’m for sure grateful I did now. The ease of my hand going under the waistband of my shorts is a relief when I wrap my hand around my aching cock.

I stroke as he fucks my mouth with his long cock, and when I swallow around him, that’s when he lets go, crying my name as warm cum fills my mouth. The taste of him is what sets off my own orgasm, making a mess in my shorts, but I couldn’t care less.

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