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Then the condom rolls down its length, and a squirt of lube drops onto his palm from nowhere. The next thing I know, Kent crawls on top of me and our kissing is resumed at once. As his lips hypnotize me into a state of dreamy bliss, I nearly forget about everything else—until a very lube-slickened set of fingers find my hole and massage their way in.

It’s like my surprise hotel masseuse all over again. By instinct, I spread my legs, and it only encourages Kent to work his diabolical fingers at my hole even more. Our kiss intensifies—as does the eagerness of his fingers.

He lifts his face from mine for one moment. “You sure this is what you want?”

I screw up my face. “You kidding me?”

“Hey, just saying. I was tuning my guitar one second, then making out with you the next. I’m not complaining.”

He’s still half-fingering me, by the way. “I know I made that big deal about saying how I’m not my friend Rico or whatever …”

“And I’m not Adrian.”

“… but we are human beings. We have human needs. And I was sure that if I spent another second around you without knowing what your lips tasted like …”

“Sex, apparently.”

“… I was going to lose my mind.”

Kent’s fingers go away. “That’s where you’re wrong, Jonah.” Something else replaces them. “Now you’re going to lose your mind.”

He grips me by the shoulders, then thrusts his cock in.

I gasp and rock my eyes back, clutching him right back, hands digging into his arms.

They say be careful what you wish for. Or ask for. Or damned near beg for. Well, I wished, asked, and begged, and now Kent is filling me up with every inch he’s got.

And it’s everything I could have hoped for and more.

He doesn’t stop, either. I grab onto him like I’m at the top of a Ferris Wheel spinning out of control, hanging on for dear life as he thrusts into me over and over, rocking me senseless. And with every thrust, a satisfaction beyond words explodes within me. But every bit of pleasure I get only leaves my body craving more.

His lips descend to my chest, where I feel his warm tongue drag over my nipple. I moan out his name—or at least I think that’s what I moan—as I cling to whatever part of him my hands can find. Soon, it’s his hair, which I grab with animal hunger, and pull his face back up to mine to kiss the fuck out of him.

His fingers wrap around my cock, still wet, and stroke it with the same intensity of his thrusts. The bed creaks and the room fills with our heat.

Kent’s lips wander to my neck, where I feel him dig in like a thirsty-ass vampire, sucking hard. My eyes crack open with my delirium—and I swear I spot Skipper’s face in the hallway, staring wide-eyed at us for exactly one second before quickly vanishing into his own room.

Kent doesn’t notice. Maybe that’s for the best.

I guess we should’ve shut the door or something.

Then his thrusting intensifies, his grip on my slick cock tightens, and I quickly realize we’re both very close to the edge. I turn my head and catch his lips with mine again. He’s on the same frequency, desperate for our lips to be locked when we reach that cliff of no return together.

His breath turns vocal. Mine, too.

Then we explode.

It’s like a fireworks show in my brain, with nothing to see but the look of anguished ecstasy on Kent’s beautiful face, super close-up, our lips locked. My heart swells with happiness. My body melts against his as we become one in this singular, perfect experience.

Soon, Kent is lying on top of me, cradling me in his arms. Our breaths crash in and out as we come down from the top of another rocky lighthouse pass, lost in the dream of whatever it was we just created together.

“Ask and you shall receive,” murmurs Kent happily.

I chuckle against his ear, where I put a tiny kiss. “I am convinced now that I’ve never had sex before. This … This doesn’t even compare. This …”

“I know, right?”

I sigh just as happily and let his weight rest against me. All sorts of stickiness lives between our bodies, and that somehow makes this moment so much more intimate, how we’re all mixed together and don’t care. He even still has his shirt on.

“You might have to apologize to Skipper later.”

“Why?” grunts Kent.

“Never mind.”

His face nuzzles against my neck. Then he looks up at me with his puppy dog eyes. “How do you feel, Jonah?”

A whistling wind sneaks its way through the window, causing one of the curtains to billow. I feel the salt air play over my skin as we lie there on his bed, melting away. I feel such happiness in my heart, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t also acknowledge the fear.

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