See You In Boston (CU Hockey 5.50)

Mom and Dad practically hound Tyson with questions all throughout dinner, and the whole time, he keeps his business self present.

I bet the hyperactive inner Tyson is screaming to be let out. “Do you two mind if Tyson and I play video games for a while in the basement? I’ll do the dishes later.”

Mom smiles at me. “Go have fun with your friend. I’ll do the dishes.”

I stand and lean over the table to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you, Mamma.”

On our way to the basement, I close and lock the door at the top of the stairs behind us.

“Video games?” Tyson whispers. “Are we twelve?”

“Fucking hope not for what I have planned.”

We get downstairs, and he turns to me. “What do you have planned? Please tell me we’re going to use all the gym equipment in some sexy and kinky way?”

“How long have you been needing to say something like that?”

“Forever. For a very real minute, I thought my immaturity was going to die a slow and horrible professional death.”

“Well, as kinky as you were hoping, I was thinking of taking advantage of the couch.” I point to my left, where there’s a TV, couch, and Marco’s and my old video games.

“Damn. And here I was picturing sitting on the leg press naked and you somehow lowering me onto your cock.”

I snort and pull him against me. “It’s official. I don’t think you should get this job at Dad’s firm. If you bottle up all your innuendo, I’m worried you’ll short-circuit.”

“We’ll have to make sure I have an outlet for all that pent-up sexual frustration.”

I lick my lips. “I know of the perfect way.”

I push Tyson onto the couch and blanket his body with mine.

Our mouths fuse together, and I push my tongue past his lips.

He lets out a loud moan.

“Shh,” I break away and murmur. “They can’t know what we’re doing down here.”

“I can’t help it,” he rasps. “You do things to me, and I lose all sense of my surroundings.”

I grind my hips, our hard cocks rubbing against each other through our work pants. “I know we kind of promised we weren’t going to do this, and then we went back on that promise but haven’t had the chance to—”

Tyson grabs my ass and squeezes, pushing me against him harder. “I need this. You have no idea how desperate I’ve been for you.”

“I think I do because I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks.”

“Kiss me,” Tyson asks.

I press my mouth to his again, our tongues tangle, and I don’t break away, even when he pushes me up so he can get my belt and pants undone. I do the same to him, pushing his work shirt up his abs to his chest and lowering his pants and underwear enough to get his cock out.

He wraps his fingers around me while I do the same to him. Our hands are squashed between us, and movement is restrictive, so I sit up to straddle his hips and bring our cocks together.

I swat his hand away and take over for both of us, loving the way he gives himself over to me.

Tyson throws his head back, his eyes flutter shut, and a strained noise comes from the back of his throat like he’s trying not to make a sound.

“Only a few more weeks,” I choke out. “Then I can have you whenever I want. Wherever I want. We won’t have to hide.”

“I want that too,” Tyson whispers. He keeps his head back, his throat bobbing with every swallow of air, and then he reaches for my shirt and grips tight.

I stroke us hard and fast. As much as I want to slow down, I’m too needy, too keyed up. This isn’t like the weekend we spent together where we had the luxury of time.

“Gian,” Tyson cries and comes all over my hand and his stomach.

I follow soon after and slump on top of him, our cum mixing on his skin. We breathe heavily, and if it were up to me, I’d stay here all night, but then Tyson shifts underneath me.

Reluctantly, I stand and grab one of the towels I use when I’m in the gym. I wipe myself off and then throw it to him.

“Think that will hold us over?” Tyson asks.

Nope. Because if I’m learning anything this summer, it’s not numbers and finance; it’s that I’ll never get enough of Tyson Harris.

Chapter 13

TYSON

This internship is every bit as incredible as I thought it would be.

And a thousand times more frustrating than I ever imagined.

The job itself, I am slaying. It’s been one thing after another as Mr. Rossi tries to stuff an entire lifetime of knowledge down my throat. I’ve moved from coffee runs and spreadsheets to balancing accounts and recording minutes during important stakeholder meetings. The more I learn, the more I know this job is where I want to be. It’s definitely a relief that the degree I put years of my life into isn’t going to waste.