I wanted everything he’d give me, for as long as I could get it.
Well, I secretly wanted it for longer than that, but since that wasn’t just greedy but also impossible, I’d remember to be grateful for what I had. And when Tyson used his thick shaft to rub his cum into my crack, making me feel even dirtier in all the most naughty, delicious ways... when he collapsed on top of me and held me close and whispered more of those too-nice, I’d-never-get-enough things about how happy he was with me... when he cleaned us both up and then crowded into my little bed with me because his was dirty now and it was all my fault… when he held me tight enough that I couldn’t move again and told me I had to go back to sleep because it was a Saturday and “too fucking early,” making me feel cherished and protected and like even the things I did wrong were still all right, weregoodeven, it was easy to be grateful for all of that.
The hard part would come later, when I lost it.
But then Tyson laughed and squeezed me against him even tighter, kissing the back of my neck as he told me to stop thinking so hard and go to sleep already... so I did, because doing what he told me was always so much nicer than worrying about things I couldn’t change anyway.
And it wasdefinitelynicer than thinking about how much I was going to miss him when I finally had to leave.
10
Tyson
I glaredat the back of the Lyft driver’s head and tugged Sean closer against my side, irritated as fuck because I was stuck in the backseat of a stranger’s car with a raging hard-on and a willing boy and no fucking privacy to do anything about it. What Ishouldhave done was just tell Brian we’d meet him at the club.
Oh wait, that’s right… I did.
“There a problem back there, Ty?” Brian asked, shifting around in the passenger seat to shoot me a shit-eating grin.
“Nope,” I bit out, being generous and leaving it at that because it was his birthday and all.
The fucker had shown up on my doorstep without even a heads-up text ten minutes ago, apparently under the delusion that if he didn’t drag my ass to the club in person, I’d end up distracted by pretty little Sean and fail to make it out of the house at all.
Which, okay, to be fair, had been well on its way to happening.
I tugged Sean closer, which basically put him on my lap.
Torture… the best kind.
But still—
“Fuck,” I grumbled, the sexual frustration pissing me off all over again because no matter how good his sweet little ass felt rubbing against me, it just couldn’t compare to the straight-up ecstasy I’d been experiencingelevenminutes ago, when he’d been staring up at me adoringly out of the world’s most gorgeous pair of blue eyes, his mouth stuffed full of cock and under the impression—just like I’d been—that he’d also be getting a mouth stuffed with my cum soon.
“I don’t think your boyfriend has the right attitude for tonight, Sean,” Brian said, smirking. “Any ideas on what’s got him so cranky?”
Sean’s eyes went wide, the fluttery pulse at the base of his neck jacking up into double-time. “Um...”
“Quit it, dick,” I snapped at Brian as I tightened my arms around my boy. And yes, I knew damn well that I was being a dick too, but I gave zero fucks about that fact. And no, that wasn’t just my cockblocked libido talking, thank you very much. It was one thing for Brian to dish it out to me, but no way was I going to let him make Sean uncomfortable, putting him on the spot like that.
Brian laughed, mumbling something about “sprung” or whatnot, then turned back to chat with the driver. Whatever. He could call me whatever he wanted, but Sean was still doing his deer-in-the-headlights impression, so fixing that was my new priority.
My boy was nervous, and guess I couldn’t blame it all on Brian giving him a hard time. Going out to a club just wasn’t Sean’s thing, and not just because he was underage—something that wasn’t going to be a problem given the hookups that Brian and I had—but because he’d obviously been sheltered as fuck and wasn’t all that social to start with anyway. Still, true to form, he hadn’t said no when I’d told him he was coming out with me tonight. Because yeah, of course I was going to show up for Brian no matter what a dick he’d been about interrupting Sean’s enthusiastic cocksucking practice earlier… but that didn’t mean I was willing to give up the Sean-time I was addicted to in order to make that happen.
As far as I was concerned, Sean and I were now a package deal, so if I was going clubbing, he was coming, too... but knowing Sean would jump to do whatever I told him even when it was way the fuck outside his comfort zone like this also meant there was no way in hell I’d ever let him down. It was like that thing that someone smart had once said—Obama, I think? Or maybe Pete Carroll? One of those guys, anyway—“with great power comes great responsibility” or some shit.
Translation: yes, Sean and I were both were happiest when I told him what to do and then made him do it, but that also meant it was my job to take care of him while he was busy making me happy and whatnot… which worked out pretty fucking well in my opinion, since I both liked always getting whatever the hell I wanted and was also kind of ragingly protective of my boy.
Weird, I know, since I’d always been more of a me-first kinda guy, but I guess it was just more of that alien mind-control shit or something… or maybe it wasn’t alien mind-control at all, but just the fact that I really was a selfish prick who wanted my way all the fucking time, and I’d lucked into finding the one boy in the world who wanted that, too.
Point being, any way you looked at it, Sean and I suited each other perfectly. And since I couldn’t imagine getting tired of bossing him around and earning all those adoring looks for my efforts—and I for damn sure couldn’t see ever not wanting to take care of him the way he deserved—guess that meant Sean was it for me.
It also meant I had to do something about these nerves of his.
“You know how good you look tonight, baby?” I whispered, rubbing a hand over his chest to get started on fulfilling that particular responsibility… okay, and also because I selfishly wanted him to give me one of those oh-so-responsive shivers I was kinda addicted to.
And yep, there it was, right on cue.
“Thank you,” he whispered, blushing… which I fucking adored, for the record. I was definitely distracting him, though—score!—because he lost the deer-in-the-headlights look and started squirming ever so subtly on my lap.
