Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Oh God, yes,” he says. “Needed this.”
I needed this too. Instead of telling him that, I tighten my hold on his hip. One final press, and I’m all the way inside. Aaron is too eager, pressing back against me and fucking himself on my cock before I even have time to take in the sensation.
This is only a hookup, I remind myself. As much as I wish I could take my time, that’s not what this is about. We’re both single, horny guys. I start moving, matching his thrusts and enjoying every minute. He lifts up, and his hand starts moving as he strokes himself.
Our dual panting fills the room as Aaron pleads for me to pound him harder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”
“Tell me about it.”
I can feel him tightening around me, and then he’s calling out, his come spurting out of his dick and onto the sheets. His hole spasms, milking my orgasm out of me. My entire body feels hot as I growl and my balls empty inside the rubber.
My head against his shoulder blades, I try to get my bearings. “Fucking hell, so good.”
“God yeah.”
I pull out, and Aaron flops onto his back, breathing heavily. His cock is softening against his stomach as I get rid of the condom in the wastebasket near the desk.
I’m a bit wrecked and want so badly to lie beside him, but I also know that’s not a good idea.
The room grows silent, and I lean forward to peck his lips. “Thanks for a good fuck.”
“See you in the morning,” he slurs as his eyes shut.
I don’t respond because I don’t plan on it. I get dressed, then let myself out.
1
AARON
I fight through San Jose traffic to meet Rocco at a restaurant we frequent whenever we’re working late. When the cars in front of me fail to make it through a busy intersection, I idle behind them at a red light as my thoughts drift. It’s been two months, and I still find myself thinking about Jack McCoy from the sleepy coastal town of Aqua Vista. The man who rocked my world by completely owning me that night. The man with the grumpy demeanor and tragic past who seemed loyal to his family.
I thought I’d get one more chance to speak to him the next day, but he was nowhere to be found when I picked up my car that afternoon. I had a feeling Frank knew what we’d been up to because he smirked when I asked where the owner was.
But it was just as well since it was only a hookup. A really hot hookup. Sleeping in had been glorious, and the continental breakfast refreshing, reminding me how overworked I’ve felt lately.
Finally in front of the restaurant, I find a spot at a meter. Rocco and I became friends in high school, went to the same college, and started working together with our fresh business degrees in hand. I also have some architecture and design experience, so we began by flipping a rental property, which was a hell of a lot of work, and grew from there. We don’t get our hands dirty much anymore, but I miss those days. We own a variety of properties now and generally use cleaning and plumbing services for any problems that arise. We’ve sold other properties for profit and done pretty well for ourselves. But I’ll admit that opportunities have begun to dry up. The housing bubble has burst, and more owners have been unwilling to sell. But these things are cyclical, and it’s not like we’re hurting. At least not yet.
Rocco is already seated with a beer in front of him when I arrive. I slide into the booth and place my order, along with our usual appetizer requests.
“I saw you posted more photos from Big Sur on social media,” he says, referring to the wedding I attended the weekend my car broke down. Rocco wasn’t able to attend due to another event on his fiancée’s side of the family. “Makes me wish I was there. Gorgeous.”
I think about the comment Jack made that photos don’t do the place justice, and he’s right. It’s true of most places, even Aqua Vista, not that I had much of an opportunity to sightsee.
“Had you gone with me and driven your new Lexus, I wouldn’t have had to stay in that town overnight.”
Rocco loves flashy rides and gets a new car every couple of years, whereas my BMW is heading toward its eighth year—or is it ninth? It still looks new as far as the body and paint, but the stuff under the hood is beginning to need upkeep.
He smirks. “Oh please, it wasn’t all bad. You hooked up with a hunk of a man.”
“True. Actually, I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.”
“I bet you wouldn’t.” He winks. “Sounds like a decent location too. Tell me again about the service station.”