LOGIN“Nathan shouts advice over his shoulder about backhands. Cole glances at me, almost like he’s saying, See what I have to deal with? And I grin, helpless, caught in some ridiculous orbit of admiration and distraction.
The shorts. They are getting worse
Not even close.Nathan looks like heās living the greatest night of his life.Cole finally hangs up after receiving very strict instructions: he is absolutely not allowed to pick Nathan up before ten tomorrow morning.Why?Because apparently āGranny makes pancakes on Saturdays and Sundays.āCole lowers the phone slowly.āHmph.āI shrug. āWell⦠I guess heās not suffering too much.āāNo,ā Cole mutters. āGuess heās not.āāThatās good though, right?āāSo good.āWe stare at each other.Then we both burst out laughing.āI know Iām pathetic,ā Cole says, shaking his head. āWhatās your excuse?āāMy excuse?ā I spread my hands dramatically. āNathan is illegally adorable. That child could cure bad moods on contact. Itās not fair. Heās just⦠ridiculously great.āColeās shoulders lift slightly, pride flickering across his face.āThanks.āāYouāre doing an amazing job with him,ā I add quietly. āSeriously. Youāre a great dad.āHe says thank you again but this time his voice sounds rougher.Weāre stan
My brain is still floating somewhere above the porch. “Right… about what?” I mumble.He gives me a look so intense it feels like my bones might melt.“You’re a very good kisser.”The noise that escapes me is horrifying. Some unholy mix between a squeak and a choke.I would absolutely die of embarrassmentbut chaos suddenly erupts across the street.“What the…?” Cole turns, squinting toward Luca and Tyler’s house.I follow his gaze.Something’s wrong with the window. There are hands moving around behind the glass arms waving but no faces. No bodies.Just frantic movement.“That’s weird,” I say. “Did something fall? I swear I heard a crash earlier.”Cole studies it for a second. “Pretty sure there used to be blinds on that window.”I blink. “Wait… the blinds are gone?&r
He’s trying to hide the grin.Which shouldn’t be hot.It really shouldn’t.And yet somehow it’s unbearably hot.By the time I finally figure out how to swallow my coffee, the heat from it travels straight down my throat… down my chest… lower… lower… until it lands somewhere that absolutely does not need extra warmth right now.Fantastic.Perfect timing.I have no idea how long we’ve been sitting here in silence, but I’m pretty sure this exceeds the socially acceptable limit for two humans sharing a porch swing and not speaking.Usually I’d jump in and save us. I’d grab a random topic weather, sports, weird news headline and run with it like a marathon sprinter.Today?Not happening.Because Cole is here.And he hasn’t told me to fill the silence.He’s closer than he normally sits. Not by much. Just enough t
Absolutely not thinking about that.Definitely not thinking about how I may have just destroyed the best friendship I’ve ever had.By mid-morning I’m sitting at my pottery wheel, hands buried in clay. I’m shaping a small vessel for Nathan something I’ve been planning ever since he proudly announced that one of his teeth was loose.The idea struck me earlier while unpacking the ridiculous box I packed during my six-a.m. meltdown. If I want it finished in time, I need to start now. Clay has to dry. Then it needs firing. No room for procrastination.I’m building the piece by hand, but I’m working on the wheel because sitting here calms me down. Or at least… it usually does.The clay started out cold, slick under my fingers. Now it’s warmed to my touch, softer and easier to shape. Normally this is the moment where my mind quiets. Where everything fades and I sink into that peaceful rhythm of making somet
Carter Blake POVDawn hasn’t arrived yet. The clock says sometime between three and four in the morning when the full weight of my stupidity finally crashes down on me.I’ve been home for hours, dragged here on the tail end of pure, blinding lust that somehow kept my legs moving long enough to reach my bed. I barely remember getting there. I remember the taste of Cole Williams, though. That memory stuck. It carved itself down the back of my throat, and every time I swallow, I swear I can still feel where he’d been.Even now.Which is ridiculous, because it’s been hours. There’s no way that sensation is real anymore. It has to be in my head some twisted leftover from a night fueled by terrible judgment and questionable mental stability. Honestly, it wouldn’t shock me if I developed a whole medical condition based purely on bad choices and emotional instability.I rode that wave of blowjob euphoria all the way to s
Normally I’d grin at that. Maybe tease him. Right now I can barely breathe.My teeth drag over my bottom lip before I pull it into my mouth, soaking it slowly before letting it slide free again. Cole’s gaze darkens instantly. Heat flickers there, sharp and approving.“Good boy,” he murmurs.The praise slices straight through me. Something new ignites under my skin stronger than anything I’ve felt before. Hotter. Deeper. Terrifying and sweet all at once.Cole steps closer. His fist guides his cock forward until the heavy tip settles onto my tongue.The second it touches me, a sound rips from my throat. Loud. Shameless.He moves it slowly, brushing the swollen head across my upper lip, tracing the shape of my mouth before nudging the thick tip firmly against my lower lip.A low growl vibrates through the room.It isn’t coming from me.My body shudders as he finally pushes inside. I moan
Tyler Bennett povThere’s a persistent tapping at my door, soft at first, dragging me from the edge of sleep like a cruel hand. My eyes crack open, nothing. I drift back, only to be yanked out again. Three, four times now. Knuckles rapping against wood, steady, relentless. Who the he
Tyler Bennett povWe land in Vancouver, the city lights slicing through the dusk like knives. The bus waits, humming, ready to take us to the hotel. Tomorrow’s a matinee, which means the second we finish, we’re back in the air. My chest tightens with that familiar, electric ant
Luca Moretti povI didn't feel like going to the gym. I raised myself a bit, but I was unable to establish my stride. At home, a sofa is loudly screaming my name, and I am eager to go. I'm eager for this week to end since it has been awful. I usually work out after the game to allow the men time t
I’ve pushed him. Like an idiot.He’s less than a foot away now. I can feel the cold night clinging to him, sharp and biting, flooding my space until I don’t know if I’m burning up or freezing in place.“I, uh…” My voice falters, useless. I







