Page 67 of Golden

Wes raises an eyebrow and nods toward my pool. “It’s nice but I’d only be able to do three strokes before hitting the side.”

It’s true. It’s a good-sized pool for barbequing and hanging around in the summer, but it’s not a lap pool. Especially not for a six-foot-three athlete like Wes.

“Is this the last stop on the tour?”

I swallow, keeping my attention fixed on the garden outside. “Not much left. Just my family’s bedrooms, my dad’s office and downstairs.”

“What’s downstairs?”

I glance at him. “My bedroom.”

“Sounds like a pretty important stop on the tour of your childhood home,” Wes says.

Without looking, I shrug and head for the door. “Sure. This way.”

WES

It’s honestly adorable how nervous Sol is. Following him down the short flight of stairs, my entire body is thrumming with anticipation. I’d tried not to get my hopes up, assuming we’d get zero alone time during this visit; and when I’d met Jacey, I was even surer.

“It’s not impressive or anything,” he says, stepping down into what looks like a low-ceilinged living room and turning around, his arms open.

Like I give a shit about his room. Closing the gap between us, I slip one hand behind his neck, the other on his lower back, and pull him to me, consuming his mouth with a hunger I hadn’t realized I’d been suppressing. Sol stiffens with surprise, but only for a second. Then, he melts against me with a soft moan, his hands sliding up under my shirt to caress my back.

“Hey,” he rasps as I break our kiss to grip his tight white t-shirt and tug it over his head.

I exhale, running my hands over his smooth skin, desperate to feel everywhere at once. “Hey.”

“We can’t—”

“I know.” I slide my hands beneath the waistband of his dark green sweats to squeeze his perfectly rounded ass. “I just wanted to touch you.”

Sol smirks and pulls my hands free, tugging me toward a doorway leading to a decent sized bedroom. As much as I agreed we can’t do much with his parents and sister roaming around upstairs, part of me doesn’t give a crap, itching to strip him naked and taste every damn inch of him.

He teased me yesterday about ‘handing in his homework’. Is he ready to take me? My head spins at the thought of fucking Sol into the mattress—the noises he’d make. I groan and drag him to me again, walking us backwards to the bed.

I’m not sure when this insatiable need to feel him against me started, but it’s like an itch I can’t seem to stop scratching. Pushing him down onto the bed, I blanket him with my body, immediately wishing I’d gotten rid of my clothes first.

As if reading my mind, Sol’s hands squeeze between us to unfasten my jeans and I lift my hips slightly to give him access. After a second, he laughs.

“Fucking hell, Wes. How tight are these things?”

I frown down at him, my glasses slipping. I’m a built guy, most jeans are tight on me, but I suppose it’s also because I’ve still got a ton of shit in my pockets. And a raging hard on.

Rolling over onto my side with an exaggerated sigh, I pull out my phone and wallet, placing them on his nightstand, followed by my glasses.

“Your eyes are bigger without your glasses,” Sol muses, reaching up to stroke the side of my face.

I have no idea what to say to that, so I lean back down to kiss him. Before I can, my phone beeps obnoxiously and Sol sits up to peek.

“Nosy.” I grunt, ignoring it.

“You can check if you want. Might be important.”

“This is important,” I say, dipping my head to press kisses to his firm chest, while running my hand down his torso toward where his dick is tenting his sweats.

“Wes?”

His tone has me freezing, my fingers at his waistband. “Yeah?”

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