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Ethan kissed me, his lips soft and warm, a gentle press that silenced the noise in my head. Festival planning and wondering about my relationship with Ethan all faded into the background.

Then came the hug.

And God, he could hug.

His arms wrapped around me, firm yet tender. I leaned closer, my cheek against his shoulder.

When we pulled apart, his blue eyes met mine and my heart stuttered.

My mind flashed to quiet nights here, mornings tangled in sheets, the discovery of who we might be together. Could that all happen before he had to leave in September?

Was long distance even possible for us?

I brought my focus back to him and let my hand drift down his chest, brushing his nipple lightly. He groaned, low and long, and I grinned, loving how he responded.

“Can I…” My voice came out raw, barely above a whisper.

He caught my hand and guided it to the bulge in his shorts.

“Can I make you come?”

He moved my hand against him, slow and deliberate.

“Yes. I want it.” His voice was thick with need. “But fair warning. I won’t last. Almost lost it getting you off.”

I sucked in a breath, imagining it—him falling apart as I came in his mouth.

“That would’ve been hot,” I admitted, “but I’m glad you waited.”

I wanted to savor him, just as he’d done for me. A playful spark flared, and I pulled my hand back. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”

My hand slipped into his shorts, wrapping around his shaft—warm, thick, pulsing. I stroked him slowly as I leaned in for a kiss. Ethan responded by wrapping his hand around my head and deepening the kiss.

Once I couldn’t wait any longer, I pulled back and dropped to my knees.

Ethan shifted, hips tilting forward, offering himself up. I tugged his shorts down. The fabric dragged over his thighs until they bunched at his feet, leaving him in boxers. His cock strained against the cotton, a damp spot spreading where he’d leaked.

I ran my hand up his leg from knee to thigh, the muscle firm beneath my fingers, soft hair tickling my skin. My hand curved to his ass—tight and perfect.

“You’re a tease,” he said with a groan.

I smirked up at him, eyebrow cocked. “Patience.”

My hand roamed higher, tracing the faint ridges of his stomach then up to his chest. I brushed a nipple and he jolted, grabbing my shoulder, his breath catching sharply.

“How’s that?” I murmured, pushing him a little.

A loud groan tore from him as his beautiful eyes locked on mine.

My fingers slid down, outlining his cock through the fabric. He twitched, his groan transitioning into a whimper of desire.

I leaned in, my lips brushing the head through the cloth, the texture rough against my mouth. His hand landed on my head, pressing me closer. The urgency in his grip made my heart pound.

I worked my mouth over the fabric—slow, steady, feeling him throb with each pass. When I pulled back, he exhaled hard and I peeled his briefs down, inch by inch. His cock sprang free, heavy and veined, the tip glistening with precum.

I grazed its length, slow and deliberate, swirling the slick drop at the tip.

“You’re evil,” he rasped, “and I love it.”