Page 70 of Hard For My Boss


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I nod and put my back to the glorious sunset, leaning against the railing. “I’m curious, Trevor. What kept you from going all the way? Are you waiting for the right guy or what?”

“Maybe. Or I just …” He sighs. “I’ve been so busy being a good student and all that. I’m not even sure anymore if it’s some high road I’m taking, or if I’ve just … simply not gotten around to it.”

“You make it sound like an item on your list of to-dos.”

He chuckles at that. “Far from. Whenever I do go all the way, I want it to be … special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah. Meaningful. There’s so much casual sex in the world. Boys bending over to the first person who breathes on them, boys who meet up with a new piece of meat every single weekend, boys who bang through boys the way you toss back a bag of chips.” He lets out a sigh. “I don’t want to be a chip.”

“You’re so not a chip.”

“I can’t just throw away my virginity,” he goes on. “I know, I know. I’m the corniest, most old-fashioned guy you’ve ever met. You’re having second thoughts about even having me as one of your interns. I’ll ruin the cool-guy image of your whole company.”

I smile and shake my head. “I doubt you’d ruin any company image if you sat right on it.”

Saying that makes me think of him sitting right on me.

On my lap, more accurately.

On my naked lap, even more accurately.

“Besides,” I go on, feeling my chest warm and my heart flutter excitedly, “I … think that makes you really cool, actually.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, his voice quivering a bit.

“It’s refreshing to hear such … virtue in another guy.”

Okay. My dick is totally disagreeing. It’s hard from thinking about his tight ass squirming in my lap. I’m literally having wet and slippery shower daydreams in an instant. The sensation of my cock slipping between his firm butt cheeks, slick and easy, as it seeks his tight pink hole as naturally as a power cord pops into a wall socket.

Zap. Pop. Power.

The feeling of slipping inside him—the warmth, the ease, the tightness—is worth waiting for. It’s been so damned long since I’ve let myself get intimate with anyone.

I can’t let my insatiable hunger for Trevor destroy the honor and respect I’m trying to give him—the very same honor he is exhibiting. Really, it isn’t the worst thing, being around a guy as adorable and hot and young as Trevor. It’s only agonizing.

Meanwhile, my dick writes the most butt-hurt power ballad known to humankind. He isn’t happy.

“Thanks for saying that, Benjamin.” The sound of all three syllables of my name in his slightly shy, achy voice casts a wave of excitement through my system. I’ve heard him grunt. I’ve heard that cute voice in my ear. I’ve been the reason for those sounds.

And it makes me think about more than the sex. It makes me think about waking up next to him, or cuddling with him on the couch like we did just last night.

I slap a palm to my face. What the hell is going on with me? I’m totally messed up about this kid.

This … kid.

“But seriously,” he goes on in his same cute voice, “and this is quite serious. Super serious question.” Trevor takes a breath. “If I was a chip, what kind would I be? Don’t say potato.”

I let myself smile—while my dick throbs in a prison of mesh and microfiber. “A tortilla chip. But dipped in a tangy salsa.”

“I am twenty-one percent Spanish-blooded. I did an ancestry DNA test thing a couple years ago for a class. I have ancestors in Spain, England, and a few other places.”

I’m still thinking about his confession of wanting his first time to be special. “So are you picturing, like, flower petals leading up to a candlelit bathtub? And then—”

“Wait. What?”

“Your first time. Sorry, my mind’s a bit fixated now.”

“Hey, now. Don’t go planning this like … like it’s a thing you’re going to orchestrate. I’m not an item on your to-do list.”

“You’re the only item on my to-do list,” I counter, rubbing my hardened crotch as my devilish grin intensifies.

“Alright. I should return to my roommate before he wonders what sex hotline I’ve holed myself up with in the closet.”

“You’re … in the closet?” I tease.

“I’m hanging up, Ben,” he warns, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Come out of the closet! Elijah’s got your back. He probably already knows you’re gay. The closet is nowhere to live.”

“I’ll see you at the office tomorrow, boss.”

I smirk. “You sound like a salty chip right now.”

“I’m a spicy barbecue Lays chip. I’m a spicy lay,” he whispers, trying on a suggestive, sexual tone.

“You’re so much hotter when you’re trying not to be hot.”

“The things you say!” Trevor protests with half a laugh and half a scoff. “I swear, if you were a chess piece, you’d move one step forward and two steps back!”

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