Page 51 of The Summer Intern

“Fuck dinner.We’re going straight to my house, straight to my bed.”

“I’m in.”I reached out and rubbed a little mud off of his shoulder.“Well, maybe a shower first.”

“Only if it’s my shower,” he said.“Together.Preferably with my fingers shoved up your ass, getting you good and ready.”

I laughed, standing on wobbly legs.“You’re supposed to be helping me get rid of the hard-on, not making it worse.”

He reached out and cupped me between the legs.“But you’re so pretty when you’re hard, baby.”

twenty

Matt

Westumbledthroughthedoor of my house, droplets from our wet swimsuits christening the wooden floor, and Casey transformed.The sweet, flirty guy who'd been teasing me all day on the lake vanished, replaced by someone hungrier, more deliberate.Before I could even kick the door shut behind us, his hands were on my chest, shoving me backward with surprising force, his eyes dark with intent.

The emergency that had interrupted us had been a minor one — just two girls who'd wandered back to their cabin and hadn't shown up for head count, but we hadn't had another moment alone since it had happened.

"Whoa—" I managed before my ass connected with one of my kitchen chairs.The wooden legs scraped across the floor, a harsh counterpoint to Casey's ragged breathing.

"Been thinking about this all fucking day," he growled, a sound so at odds with his delicate features that it sent a shock straight to my groin.His pastel hair was still damp, hanging in his eyes, making him look wild and untamed.

I reached for him, but he dodged my hands with a dancer's grace."No.Not yet."

My house felt even smaller with Casey stalking toward me, his slim figure somehow filling the space between the kitchen counter and the chair where I'd landed.The windows were thrown open to the forest beyond, summer air carrying the scent of pine through the screens, but all I could focus on was the musky scent of Casey's skin as he bent over me.

His fingers found the hem of my rash-guard, sticky and wet against my skin."Off," he commanded, tugging impatiently.I lifted my arms and let him peel the clinging fabric up my torso and over my head.It landed with a wet smack somewhere behind him, forgotten.

Casey's gaze raked over my chest, lingering on my pierced nipples.He brushed his thumbs over them, sending sparks shooting through my nervous system.

"Fuck, Matt," he breathed, "you have no idea what these do to me."His fingers traced the outlines of my tattoos."Or these."

I was about to tell him exactly what his fingertips were doing to me when he dropped to his knees between my spread legs.His hands found the waistband of my swim trunks, tugging insistently.

"Lift," he ordered, and I obeyed, raising my hips so he could drag the wet nylon down my thighs.My cock sprang free, already half-hard.

My swim trunks joined my rash-guard on the floor.I sat naked on the kitchen chair while Casey remained clothed, his eyes devouring me.The vulnerability of it–—me exposed while he remained covered–—sent an unexpected thrill through me.I was used to being the one in charge, the camp director, the responsible one, but there was something intoxicating about Casey taking control.

"Now you get to watch," he said, rising to his feet.He took two steps back, just out of reach, and began to peel off his own rash-guard.Unlike my hurried undressing, Casey took his time, revealing himself inch by pale inch.The fabric rose, exposing the flat plane of his stomach, the subtle definition of his abs, then higher to reveal his chest, slender but toned.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as sand.Casey knew what he was doing, his eyes never leaving mine as he let the rash-guard drop.

"Like what you see?"he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You know I do."My voice came out rougher than I intended as I palmed my cock, showing him how hard he made me.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his swim trunks, pushing them down his hips with excruciating slowness.The bright blue fabric slid down to reveal the sharp cut of his hip bones, then the thin trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, and finally his cock, flushed and hardening under my gaze.

When he stepped out of the trunks, kicking them aside, he turned around, giving me a view of his ass—round and perfect, like it had been sculpted specifically to torment me.He glanced over his shoulder, catching me staring, and wiggled his hips in a little shimmy that made me groan out loud.

"Goddamn, Casey."My hands moved of their own accord, reaching for those hips, needing to grab and squeeze and pull him into my lap.

He danced away."No touching.Not yet."

"You're killing me," I complained, but there was no real protest in it.The game was too good, the anticipation building like electricity before a storm.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered, and I complied, gripping the back of the chair to keep myself from reaching for him.The position pushed my chest forward, my pierced nipples hardening in the cool air, my cock standing at attention.

Casey stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.He circled behind me, his breath hot against my ear."Good boy."The praise shouldn't have affected me the way it did, a shiver running straight to my groin.“I’m gonna use that big dick like my own personal dildo.”

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