Page 111 of Kismet

As if his release was my trigger, my balls tighten up, an icy hot wave racing through me. My head rests on the seat as my release seizes my body, thundering through me until I’m emptying every last drop inside his hot, tight hole.

He stops grinding on my lap as he reaches down, swiping his tongue over my chin, gathering his cum that landed there before bringing his mouth to mine. My hands automatically go to the back of his head, fingers weaving through his thick hair and tugging on the strands. His tongue dives into my mouth, sharing his release with me, and I can’t help the groan that comes. Licking and tasting his cum off his tongue is enough to make me bust all over again.

After we pull apart, he buries his face into my neck, pressing soft kisses down as we stay there, holding each other and steadying our breathing. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he says breathlessly into my neck.

His words make my chest swell. The love I have for him is boundless. “You’re it for me, Bambi.”

Sitting up, he peers at me for a moment before pressing his swollen lips onto mine again. Our kisses always say everything we can’t. Eventually, he climbs off my lap, and we get dressed again. It’s pouring even harder by the time I put the car in drive and pull back onto the road.

He glances over at me, and I, him. “Seems like storms and fields are kind of our thing,” he says with a smirk.

He’s right. We are always drawn to those when we’re together. The grin on his face is contagious, and one tugs on my lips as I grab his hand, pulling it onto my lap. We hold hands like that the entire way home, and once we get inside, we share a hot shower where we make each other come again, before tangling up under the covers and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Chapter Forty-One

Cash DeMarco

Finals are upon us, and my workload has been insane. Between grading papers, helping students before and after class, getting them ready for their tests, and making sure they pass—I’ve had a few problem students this semester—I’ve barely had any time to think or breathe.

Making time for Stone has been next to impossible. It’s been about two weeks since we went to Club Mayhem, and I still think about that hot as fuck night almost daily. We’ve met for lunch a few times and he came over to my house for dinner a couple of times too, but aside from that, we’ve both been too busy—and then subsequently, too tired—for much more.

Spring break is next week, and I couldn’t be more excited. I’m visiting Weston in Miami for the week. I leave Friday after my last class is over. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen him, and it’ll be great to catch up and let loose. It’s kind of shitty timing, with Stone and I doing whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m not canceling.

Walking through my front door, it’s just before seven o’clock, and way fucking later than I normally get home. A meeting with one of my student’s parents ran much longer than anticipated. I drop my briefcase by the door before kicking my shoes off, just as my phone rings from where it’s at in my pocket. Pulling it out, I check the screen and it’s a FaceTime call from my buddy, Knox. A smile cracks on my face as I hit connect.

“My man! Long time no talk, bro.” Out of all my hometown friends, Knox and his husband, Aston, are the ones I talk to the least. Not because we aren’t as close, but simply because we’re all so busy. There’s never any time. They moved to Portland the summer after Aston graduated—he’s a year younger than us.

Aston owns a successful art studio. He opened it not long after they moved there—I’m pretty sure it’s the reason they chose that area in the first place. For as long as I can remember, he’s been into art. He has a gift, and it’s been fucking incredible watching his passion transform into a successful career. He’s busted his ass to get where he’s at now, and it’s admirable.

Knox is just as successful, but in a different way. He runs a non-profit center for kids who come from abusive families. He built the business from the ground up, and hustles every fucking day for those kids. Knox’s dad is a real piece of work. When we were still in college, he beat the shit out of Knox when he learned he was gay. He was in the hospital for several days and had some extensive injuries. Knox was, thankfully, able to put his ass in prison. So to say that the center is near and dear to his heart is an understatement. I’m so fucking proud of him.

“Cashy boy! What the fuck is up?”

“Just getting home from work. Been a shit day, let me tell ya. How’s it going on that side of the country?”

“I’m just getting home too. Talked to Weston. He said you’re going there for spring break?”

“Yup. Leave Friday. You should come, dude!” I prop my phone on the counter in the kitchen as I pull the fridge open and grab a Bud Light, twisting the top off and pouring a swig in my mouth.

“Can’t. The center’s been keeping me busy as fuck. Plus, Aston has a huge art exhibit next week. What’s new with you?”

“Work and more work. It’s finals week, and it’s been chaotic.” I laugh, taking another swig from my beer.

“Seeing anyone?” He lifts a questioning brow at me.

“Uh… yeah. Kind of. I guess.” I can feel my face warm, and it’s stupid. I don’t have to tell him anything more than that, so why am I so nervous?

A knowing smirk slides on his face as he rests his elbows on the counter and puts his hands into his palms. “Do tell. Leave nothing out. And the way you’re blushing tells me it’s gonna be fucking good.”

Rolling my eyes, I snort because he’s always been able to read me like a damn book. “It’s nothing. Just someone.”

“No fucking way, dude. I’m gonna need more than that. Guy or girl?”

“Guy.”

“Older or younger?”

Running a hand over my face, I groan. “Older.”

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