Page 36 of The Summer Intern

fifteen

Casey

Matthoistedmeontothe cold granite counter before I could process the fizzy pleasure of the one thought that kept playing on repeat in my mind: he hadn’t forgotten my birthday.His mouth crashed against mine with the same reckless energy that made him leap across rocks in the river, all salt and cinnamon toothpaste, and that little growl he made when something made his cock hard.I grabbed two fistfuls of his sleep-rumpled t-shirt, cotton stretching taut over pecs I wanted to bite.

“Showered,” I said against his lips, fingers scrambling under fabric to find hot skin.“Felt icky when I woke at 4 am, and wanted to be clean in case...”

His teeth sank into my bottom lip, swallowing the rest of my sentence.The hoodie I’d stolen from his floor last night felt suffocating, every inch of me hypersensitive where his palms mapped my ribs through thick cotton.I arched into him just as a shiver wracked my spine as his hands slid back under the thick cotton, roaming over my back and chest, until his thumbs circled my nipples like he was tuning a guitar.

“Fuck, your hands,” I groaned, head thunking back against the cabinet.Cold air rushed under my hoodie as he peeled it upward, calluses catching on the ribbed hem of my briefs.“They’re like… god, like you could build a house and wreck me at the same time.”

“You showered and prepped for me to fuck you?I thought you were pissed off at me?”He nipped at my neck, and I blushed, caught.

“Never hurts to be prepared.”He didn’t need to know how sexy he’d looked in bed with me, or how horny waking next to him had made me.

Matt huffed a laugh into the hollow of my throat.“Says the brat who’s still wearing clothes.”He pushed my hoodie up and over my head, leaving me in just a pair of skimpy red briefs.

He tugged at the waistband.“These better be for me.”

“Who else would they be for?”I squealed as he lifted me and spun me around, biting my ass.He set me on my knees on the counter and nipped at the edge of my underwear, tugging it down.

"This cute little ass is a work of art," he said again, and I yelped as he sunk his teeth in, my cock going rock hard.

Spinning and kneeling in front of him on the hard granite, I yanked at his t-shirt, fighting to get it off of him.His chest emerged like a damn Renaissance painting—sun-kissed ridges and the glint of metal piercing his nipple.

He’d planned a party.He’d remembered.

My thumbs found his nipple piercings, twin steel bars that made him jerk against me.I was going to thank him with every inch of my body.

“How could you be secretly a romantic?”I kissed the word into his collarbone.“You’re supposed to be a fucking lumberjack.”

His palm cupped me, stroking my length, blunt pressure that had my hips stuttering.“I was always romantic,” he laughed.“And just because you call me a lumberjack doesn’t make it so.”

I dragged my teeth along the cord of his neck.“Does too.So does all the flannel.”He grabbed my face and kissed me, slashing his lips across mine and thrusting his tongue into my mouth, commanding and forceful.

His pajama pants were halfway down his thighs before I realized he’d untied them one-handed, because of course fucking Matt Blackstone could multitask even while devouring my mouth like a man starved.I hooked my ankles behind his knees, pulling him flush against me, his cock rubbing against mine through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs in the most delicious way.

“Wait.”He braced himself on the counter, chest heaving.“Casey, I need—”

“I know what you need.”I rocked up, relishing the strangled gasp it ripped from him.The evidence of how badly he wanted me pressed against my balls, hot and rock hard.“Same thing I’ve needed since you made me come in that shed.”

With a rough groan, Matt broke our kiss, his exhale ragged against my spit-slick lips.“But you didn’t open your present.”

His cock strained against worn cotton inches from my fingertips, and I skimmed my hands over his erection.“A backpack?We can open that present later.Right now, I want to unwrap this.”

“Nuh-uh.”Matt caught my wrists, sunlight catching on the silver chain he wore around his wrist.“Birthday rules.”His grin turned wolfish as he reached behind the espresso machine, producing an obnoxiously large gift bag stuffed with rainbow tissue paper.

He must have known I couldn’t resist gifts, and he teased the bag over my head as I lunged for it, freeing it from his grasp.

“Happy birthday, brat,” he said, and I grinned big at him as I dug in.The crinkle of paper drowned out his laughter as I excavated treasures—cellophane packs of tortoiseshell guitar picks, a pack of upscale guitar strings, sheet music, and oh god, a jumbo bottle of lube.

“That’s…ambitious.”I dangled a glass butt plug by its heart-shaped base, watching color bloom across Matt’s throat.He shrugged and reached for my bare cock, stroking it, reminding me that I was naked in front of him, and rock hard.

“I want to find every possible way to make you come.”He grinned, looking a little shy.“But there’s more.”

My breath hitched as he reached into a closet and produced a long case wrapped in colorful paper.The shape of it was obvious.

“You got me a guitar?”I shot him a wide-eyed look, and he just shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.

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