you can hold onto me as tightly as you need to, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I just want to make sure I don’t scare you into going anywhere. Not before I can prove to you that we work.”
“You don’t have to prove it,” I said, my voice cracking a little. I cleared my throat. “You don’t have to, Daddy,” I repeated. “Because I’m not safe wording.”
Andy’s hand tightened on the back of my neck. “What?” he rasped, pinning me with that same high-intensity stare from earlier.
“I didn’t say milk,” I said, feeling a little bit stupid but also a whole lot desperate to make my point. “I didn’t say the safe word, so I didn’t want you to stop. I mean, if you... if this is... if you really want to do this, you know, permanently? Or even if you just think you do, or think you might, or just want to try it, I’m not, uh, there’s no milk. From me, I mean. I’m in, too.”
Andy suddenly smiled, going from gripping my neck to stroking the back of it, tunneling his fingers up through my hair, dragging them over my scalp and finally pulling me in close and kissing me.
Kissing me like his answer was yes.
“I don’t ‘think’ I do,” he finally said, smiling at me again. “I know I do, petal. You and me, permanently. That’s what I want.”
Except… shit. That wasn’t just a smile. That was the fucking sun.
“Okay,” I said, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt and suddenly too fucking pumped to bother trying to tame it. “I mean, yeah. No milk. The opposite of milk. Is there a go-word? Because I’m saying that one. I want to, uh, I want it to be permanent, too. If you really don’t think you’ll change your mind.”
“Sweetheart,” he said—no, he fucking growled, making my dick pop up and my heart roll over in my chest as he suddenly crowded me back against the counter again. “That’s what permanent means.”
And he must have meant it, too, because after he fucked me again, face-to-face right there, with my ass on the kitchen counter and the dinner dishes stacked in the dish rack right next to us, he told me he was taking me home with him for Christmas.
To meet, like, his family.
It sounded fucking terrifying… but Daddy was in charge, and I didn’t safe word on that one, either.
Sneak Peek
Can’t Touch
CHAPTER ONE
Tyson
Being back on campus a week after spring break shouldn’t have been a relief, but not gonna lie, I’d fucked so many twinks over the break that my dick had felt raw when I’d come home. And huh… “home.” If you’d asked me two years ago, living in the dorms would never have earned that label, but first off, campus housing options got better with seniority and I was a junior now—meaning I finally qualified for something that was more like a small two-bedroom apartment than the postage stamp with two twin beds I’d been stuck in during my freshman and sophomore years—and secondly, well… this year, I had Sean.
My cock twitched, and I palmed myself through my basketball shorts, pleased to find that my junk seemed to be fully recovered after the week of overindulging down in Cancun. Although hell, even rubbed raw and with my balls drained dry, my lesser head always seemed to perk up at the thought of the adorable little slice of perfection who I’d been blessed/cursed with as a roommate this year.
I flicked a button on the remote, bored with ESPN and hoping the cable package Sean’s parents had sprung for had something better to offer, and pressed down on my dick with the heel of my other hand as the thought of him started chubbing me up even more. It felt good enough that for a hot second I considered ditching TV for the night and trying my luck with Grindr instead.
I must have made some kind of sound or something, because all of a sudden Sean popped his head out of the little kitchen where he’d been fucking around for the last twenty minutes and blinked those big baby blues at me.
“Did you… did you need something, Tyson?” he asked in that eager, breathless little voice of his that always made me want to do such dirty things to him. “Are you still hungry? I could reheat that chicken breast. Or I could get you a drink? I picked up some more of that vitamin water you like.”
“I’m good,” I