Page 56 of The Boss

We slipped into our casual wardrobe, ditching the formality of the past three days for shorts and tank tops, then headed downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant. We ordered light—fresh seafood, cold drinks, nothing heavy enough to weigh us down.

As we ate, Zac shared more business tips and investing strategies, grooming me for a future in Nova Systems as his right-hand man. The conference might have been over, but the effect of it still lingered on his ever-working mind, buzzing with ideas, plans, and projects. This was a man who’d gone against every jock stereotype—brilliant, driven, the kind of man who didn’t just climb to the top but built the ladder himself. It was awe-inspiring to see.

But as much as I admired that side of Zac, it was the unguarded moments I craved most. The side he showed when he teased me about my prosaic tastes, or when he smiled at me like I was the only person in the crowded room. Those were the moments that sent warmth curling through my chest, hinting at something unspoken between us, a deeper sense of connection that transcended just the physical. And in those moments, I could almost believe he felt the same way.

After we finished eating, Zac sat back in his chair, sipping the last of his drink. “Let’s enjoy our last day in Miami properly. Are you up for some adventure?”

I grinned. “Hell yes.”

His lips quirked. “Good. Because I know just the spot.”

* * *

I didn’t have to ask where we were going—he told me on the drive over. Haulover Beach.

The moment we stepped out of the cab, I felt like a kid on summer break. The air smelled of salt and sun-warmed sand, thick with the scent of coconut sunscreen and distant whiffs of grilled food from the vendors lining the lot. The ocean stretched endless and blue before us, its surface glittering under the afternoon sun. The rhythmic crash of waves, the distant call of seagulls, and the easy laughter of beachgoers all blended into a heady, intoxicating soundtrack of freedom. I kicked off my flip-flops and dug my toes into the hot sand, grinning at the sheer, unfiltered joy of it.

“This is amazing,” I breathed, tilting my face up to the sky, letting the warmth soak into my skin.

Zac smirked beside me, sunglasses shielding his eyes, his demeanor lazy and knowing. “Oh, just wait.”

He led me further down the shoreline, past sunbathers stretched on their towels, past families wrangling excited kids,until we reached the nude section. Still, we kept on walking, and soon the crowd began to shift. The rainbow parasols were the first giveaway. Then, the men—lounging bare-skinned, strolling along the water’s edge, tangled together on beach chairs, their laughter carefree. Some walked hand in hand, some kissed openly, some lay in each other’s arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because here, it was.

A lump rose in my throat, unexpected and overwhelming. I’d been out since my senior year of high school, had been to my share of gay clubs and sex-positive venues, but nothing had ever felt like this—this paradise where no one had to hide, where love between men wasn’t something whispered behind closed doors. It was all here, laid bare in the sun, open and unafraid.

I turned to Zac, trying to keep my voice light even as my chest clenched with emotion. “How did you know about this place? Been here before?”

He reached out, skimming his fingers through my hair, his touch lingering. “Not this part. But I’ve heard of it, and I figured now was as good a time as any to check it out.”

“Look,” I whispered, jerking my chin toward a guy only a few feet away. “That dude’s doing yoga poses.”

Zac followed my gaze, frowning. The man was bent forward in a deep stretch, ass high in the air, his skin glistening in the sun. Zac squinted. “Why is his butthole shiny?”

I grinned, still staring. “I think he’s got a piercing on his taint.”

We looked at each other and lost it, shoulders shaking as we tried to stifle our laughter. A few nearby men glanced at us, amused, but we quickly composed ourselves and found a spot to lay out our towels.

The moment our trunks hit the sand, we bolted for the turquoise water, crashing into the surf like kids set loose from school. Naked, laughing, exuberant. The ocean welcomed uswith warm, crystal-clear waves, enveloping us in its weightless embrace. Zac pulled me deeper, his hands on my waist, guiding me effortlessly through the swell. Sunlight rippled beneath the surface, catching on his golden skin, and when he kissed me, the salt on his lips only made me want more.

I hardened in seconds. When my body pressed flush against his, I felt his cock, thick and insistent between us. Instead of drawing back, he pulled me closer, one arm tight around my back, the other drifting lower, teasing, possessive.

“People can see us,” I murmured against his mouth, breathless.

“I don’t care.” His voice was a low growl, rough with need, and the desperate edge in it sent a thrill straight through me.

Then his hand slid lower, a finger slipping inside, stretching me open. I sucked in a sharp breath, clinging to him, waves breaking around us as he rocked forward, his cock pushing in, filling me. My body tightened, fought to adjust, then surrendered, melting into the rhythm of the tide, the slow, relentless thrust of his hips. I let the ocean cradle me, let the world melt away until there was nothing left but him and me, and the salt-drenched taste of his mouth as he pulled me in for a kiss.

We were completely exposed, out in the open—anyone swimming by, anyone glancing from the beach, could guess what we were doing. We weren’t loud, but the movement of our bodies gave us away, our gasps swallowed by the crash of the surf. And that only made it hotter.

I wanted him. Here. Now. Everywhere. Always.

When he finally spilled inside me, raw and unrestrained, his mouth capturing mine as he shuddered against me, I felt it—joy deeper than pleasure, a sort of ecstasy only experienced by mystics and people in love. It was overwhelming, light as the ocean breeze, yet endless as the sky—and equally elusive. Thefeeling curled around my ribs and refused to let go. The waves lapped at our overheated skin, the sun casting its golden glow over the world, and for a moment, nothing else existed.

Zac gasped, too loud, his body jerking. At first, I thought it was just the intensity of release. But then he pulled back, his whole frame going rigid.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, dazed, still breathless.

“I’ve been stung by a fucking jellyfish,” he gritted, shoving me off him and bolting for the shore.

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