“We’re good. We’re evenly spaced. Kiss me again.” He didn’t do that, but the hand that had played with my nipple caressed down my chest and over my tummy. It slipped under the waistband of my cargo shorts. Not the first time his fingertips had touched me, but my body gave the same over-the-top reaction as every other time. He skimmed my tip, massaging there in small, circular strokes, spreading the leaking bit over me.
Even though I’d denied wanting to take our relationship to the next level, claiming we needed more time, I was truly ready.
“Is that for me?” Dash whispered and pushed his hand lower. That was new. It felt too good, better than anything I was able to do on my own. My body bowed as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He lifted above me, pressing his lips against mine. “Do you trust me?”
How could I retain anything asked when the heel of his palm used pressure, rising and falling over me? He used both knees to spread my legs apart as the tip of his tongue lavished the shell of my ear before pushing inside. The quiet whisper was almost my undoing. “I love you. You have to know.”
His hand gripped my length with purpose in every tug. My eyes opened, my head tilted, my gaze searching his. The words he spoke were etched on his face with certainty and strength.
My heart thumped wildly against the knowledge that he plotted every moment we were together, making sure it was special until he got us right here together. I gave small shallow puffs, my mind reeling with the pleasure below.
“I love you too. I have since…you know.”
“Me too.” Dash moved carefully between my thighs, most certainly trying to keep balance. “My birthday’s in a few days. I want us to make love. For that to be my birthday present from you.” He deftly shoved his shorts down past his butt, springing himself free. My hips pumped back and forth while he unzipped my shorts and pushed my underwear low. Seconds later, he had us in his fist, jacking us off together.
Oh, Jesus. I was gay. I was so gloriously gay. My breath panted, and my vision blurred. The moment had me dropping my head backward, imprinting the size and shape of his cock, down to the lines and veins running over it, into the deepest recesses of my mind. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
“You and me. In my room at the resort. I’ll slip you in,” he said, all breathy and husky. “Say yes.”
He pumped his fists up and down like a pro. The friction spoke of decadence and wickedness in the best possible way. My body coasted on pleasure, finding the freedom to love all the different layers of me.
From head to toe, every muscle in my body tightened and strained. I wasn’t breathing. I had to breathe. But staving off my release took all my energy.
My hands reached low, needing to feel him. Dash guided me and clutched my hand in his, holding us tightly together. It all became too much. Survival took over. I exhaled in a whoosh andtook a deep cleansing inhale. From there, my breath came in short shallow puffs. My world turned into vivid technicolor.
“Look at me,” he instructed. My balls tingled, my hips arched forward and stayed locked there.
I had no hesitancy when I opened my eyes and reached out for Dash, cradling his face in my palm. Sweet agony mixed with the most delicious desire.
“These weeks have been the best of my life. I love you,” Dash repeated.
How could he hold enough thought to form coherent sentences? “I can’t hold it…”
As I looked down the length of my body, I watched our heads bound together, dripping. Dash’s need was as great as my own. His lips came down on mine, his tongue pushing inside my mouth, taking what he wanted. My hips arched one last time before my release barreled forward. Oblivion surrounded me. A perfect moment in time. I found perfection. Sleep pushed me under.
The muted voices from the living room, quietly filtering through the closed bedroom door, had me paying more attention there, then gathering my gear for my next shift at the swimming pool.
Quietly, I opened the door to a small slit and surveyed the scene. Based on the loud conversation, I’d thought others were there with my father. But he was alone, sitting at the dining room table in full business attire. He always overdressed for such a warm, sultry climate. How did any deodorant stand up against all those clothes?
The waitstaff worked quietly, setting breakfast at the other end of the table. A telephone was placed to one side of him. Tom, one of my father’s senior advisors, spoke from the speaker. A set of blueprints was sprawled out before him. I stared at them, trying to remember if I’d been told of any new architectural plans. My curiosity got the best of me, and pushed open the door. Whatever discovery I had to solve needed to be done in the next ten minutes, since I was due downstairs.
My father noticed my entrance, causing him to pause mid-sentence and push his seat backward from the table. He stood, joy evident as he gestured me over. “Tom, Dasham’s here.”
As I surveyed the blueprints, I interjected, “I won’t bother you. I’m headed down for my shift.”
The hearty clap on my back and wide grin made me forget everything else as I openly stared at him. My father was rarely happy. I needed some sort of explanation. “Son, you’ve fulfilled your duty. Your efforts are greatly valued. We appreciate your service, but there’s no need to continue with the charade. We’ve done it.”
“Okay,” I said, then paused. The confusion sparked a whirlwind of possibility. “Can we rewind? What duty?”
Both Tom and my father chuckled at me, most definitely not with me. My dad threw out a hand to shake mine. With hesitancy, I reciprocated the pumping grasp. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in a situation like this.
“What’s happened?”
“The local group opposing the resort has officially declared bankruptcy. They’re done. The picket line’s down by half today. We anticipate dissolution by end of day.”
Regret tumbled through me. The stories Beau and Chae had told of the area’s past vitality and vibrance must have deeply affected me. What would become of those small businesses? They were bound to fail.
“What’s that for?” I asked, nodding toward the blueprints. A dawning understanding twisted my gut. There was no one more ruthless than Tom. He certainly wouldn’t give the locals time to absorb their losses and recover. He’d strike swiftly, like a cobra, injecting venom into the wound.
