Page 31 of Camping with the Boss

His eyes soften. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Save it.” But I smile so my words don’t sting. “There are times when you’re in charge and times when I’m in charge. Got it?”

He bites his lip as his gaze wanders over me. Damn. “Got it.”

I shake my head. Partly to clear the hazy lust threatening my composure. “If you can’t behave during my sessions, I will be forced to”—remove you—“ask you to leave. Do you understand?”

I expect him to challenge me, but he again surprises me. “Yes.”

All the energy from expecting a fight is left with nowhere to go. “Fine. Thank you.” I turn to leave…for sanity reasons.

“One more thing, Mr. Drake?”

I swallow my sudden jitters and face him. “Yes?”

“It’s so fucking hot when you take charge.” He grabs my shirt and hauls me against him like I weigh nothing. It also exposes my collarbone, but before I can freak out, he kisses me.

Chapter Eight

Wade

Tuesday, June 10th, 11:30 a.m.

Canyon moans, and I wrap my arms around him. I place one hand on the back of his head, holding him as I explore his mouth. My other hand traces the sliver of skin on his stomach. My thumb sneaks under the waistband of his shorts, just a light stroke, and he lets out another breathy sigh.

“Wade—we can’t.” But his body must disagree because he thrusts against me, his dick as hard as the rocks in front of the building.

I savor the delicious feel of him rutting against me, rubbing our cocks together for another moment, and then I take a step back. His breathy whine almost draws me back in. “You’re right, sweetheart.” I wipe the drool off the corner of his mouth. “We can’t do this right now. I’m just so proud of you.” In a lower voice, I add, “You deserve a reward.” I catch his eyes and say the words I suspect he wants to hear. “You’re such a good boy.”

He fists my shirt, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me again. “Not fair,” he complains. Then he releases my shirt and brushes away the wrinkles. His hand grazes over my nipple,and I bite back the moan and request for more than either of us has time for.

“Can,” I growl, and he laughs.

“Accident. Sorry.” But his satisfied smirk says otherwise.

I lead him back to the area before either of us can take it too far. Ander has everyone ready with their rocks, and Canyon takes charge. I love seeing him confident, so when Lydia asks with a huff how long the activity will take because she ate all her snacks, I don’t yell or even glare. Much.

“It depends on you,” Canyon says, walking around the group. “All of you spend a good portion of your workday at a computer. Let’s see if you’ve learned anything.”

Al starts to interrupt, but Carol shakes her head at him.

“I want you to arrange the rocks the way they appear on the QWERTY keyboard.”

“Yes,” Dillian says, fist-bumping Owen. “You’re all going down.”

Canyon laughs, and I’m dazzled by the way it lights up his face. What is wrong with me? “It’s not as simple as it sounds. And we’re doing it as a group, so you have to work together.”

Dillian grimaces but then shrugs, his eyes dancing. They all look excited. Lydia is smiling. Jet is bouncing up and down. Al is…still glowering, but it’s a little less.

“Go.”

They start out strong but then argue about whether the X or the Z is at the beginning of the third row. They switch the K and the L several times. Dillian moves away from the group to the picnic table. Is he cheating by checking his phone? But then I realize he’s pretending to type—accessing his muscle memory. He rushes back to the group.

“Switch the L and the K,” he says to Vivian.

“No, wait. I don’t think that’s right.” Al scratches his head and glances over at Canyon. But Canyon remains stoic. He isn’t giving anything away.

“Trust me, okay?”

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