Strike a Chord by K. M. Neuhold

Author:K. M. Neuhold
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Music, Kindle Unlimited
Published: 2019-05-14T04:00:00+00:00

Track 22: Side A

New Year, New You

Benji

The past two days have been filled with nothing but sun, sand, and blowjobs. Best. Vacation. Ever. I glance over at Paris, asleep in the bed beside me. He looks peaceful and sexy as hell, his body naked, the sheet tangled around his legs, leaving all the interesting bits free for me to ogle as I wait for him to wake up.

I still can’t believe after all these years of pathetically crushing on him, he’s actually naked in my bed. I’ve had his cock in my mouth. I’ve touched and cuddled and kissed him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think our plane crashed into the ocean on the way to the island, and this is heaven.

I have no idea what’s going to happen when we get home, but at the very least, I think we’ll be closer now. Maybe it won’t be ten years before I see him again. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship. I try not to feel disappointed at the thought. I’d love to be friends with Paris, and we’ll certainly need to be, at least for a little while if we’re doing this fake boyfriend thing.

Fake dating has been working like a charm too. We’re both trending on Twitter, we’ve each nearly doubled our Instagram followers, and the gossip sites can’t stop speculating about us. We posted more pictures yesterday, including a couple where we’re kissing. No one is talking about Paris’ injury, and for once, people are paying attention to me rather than Lincoln or Jude, it’s a win-win.

Paris groans and stretches, all of his muscles twitching.

“Morning,” I say, and he groans again, reaching for me without opening his eyes and dragging me against him. Plastered against his muscles, slightly sweaty from the heat and from sleep, the scent of him wrapping around me, I’m certainly not complaining.

“Sex or breakfast first?” I ask, reaching between his legs and wrapping my hand around his swollen shaft. He moans, twitching his hips and pressing his face into the crook of my neck.

“Is that even a question?” Paris’ teeth graze my throat. “God, what are you doing to me? I swear I wasn’t this insatiable when I was eighteen.”

He rolls over on top of me, and I release my hold on his cock as it presses against my own. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on for the ride as he thrusts against me, hot, hard steel of his morning wood against mine.

“Back at you. It must be the island; there’s an aphrodisiac in the water or something,” I reason breathlessly, not wanting to admit the intensity of my crush on him or think about what it could mean that he’s feeling the same way I am.

“Mmm, must be,” he agrees before kissing me. Morning breath be damned, we share a deep, hungry kiss as Paris humps against me, precum from both of our cocks mixing to slick the way slightly as we moan into each other’s mouths.

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