Page 19 of Three Bossy Boyfriends (Honeysuckle Harbor #3)

Evan

Christopher has me by the balls and is taking me into his mouth with deep, hot strokes. I briefly close my eyes as the tension builds in my cock.

I’ve wanted this for so long.

Maybe even more than I realized.

Dragging my eyes back open, I stare down at Christopher, senior partner and my former boss, on his knees on my apartment floor in his suit. “Fuck, this is so hot,” I pant. “Do you want to move to the couch?”

I’m trying to be considerate. I don’t actually want him to stop even for twenty seconds. The way his tongue is swirling over the tip of my cock, and all the way back down my length, his fingers forming a firm fist at the base…damn, it’s just too fucking good.

“No,” he pulls back long enough to murmur. “I want to be on my knees for you.”

Fuck.

I grab the back of his head and bury my fingers in his hair. Lust is coursing through me, thick and pulsating. Holding his head steady, I take over the rhythm, pumping my hard length between his lips.

“I love seeing you take my whole cock,” I tell him.

He makes an enthusiastic sound of pleasure, but he can’t speak because I won’t let him. I’m going faster now, the sound of him sucking on me making my thoughts scatter, my movements wild and out of control. He has me fully slicked up, his hands digging into my thighs.

How many nights have I imagined this? How many times did I picture me on my knees for him? Fucking hundreds at this point.

It’s better than any fantasy I’ve ever had.

“Christopher,” I tell him urgently, hips pistoning. “You need to stop.”

Hands fisting in the fabric of my joggers, he holds me tighter, a little jerk of his head indicating he has no plans to show me mercy.

It’s too late again.

I’m exploding into his mouth with a roar, his name bursting off my lips as violently as my cum spilling down his throat.

“ Fuck . You just destroyed me,” I tell him when I can breathe and think and speak again.

Christopher swallows and gazes up at me. His brown eyes are dark with lust and something else I can’t quite decipher. He eases his tongue over his bottom lip. “That,” he says, ripping his tie off, “was a long time coming. Literally.”

I shake my head with a soft chuckle. “No puns, please.”

When he stands up, I cup his cheeks with both of my palms and kiss him, my mouth sweeping over his, the salty taste of me still in his mouth.

Christopher breaks away to yank off his jacket, which he just lets drop to the floor.

“You’re just going to let that wrinkle on the floor? Mr. Meticulous?” I tease.

“I have a dry cleaner.” He kicks off his shoes. “Now where is your bedroom, Evan? I need to see it. Now .”

The tone makes my mouth go dry. “Yes, boss.” I tug my shirt off over my shoulders and toss it onto his jacket. I like seeing our clothes in a pile together.

“Joggers off too,” he demands. “I need to see every fucking inch of you.”

“Why, so you can call me pretty?” It’s something I’ve heard my whole life. When I was a kid, women admired my eyes. As a teen, girls bemoaned my long eyelashes. And guys either wanted to insult my looks or fuck me. Or both.

“Absolutely. I want you on display so I can appreciate you fully.” Christopher starts to unbutton his shirt. “And congratulate myself on scoring you.”

I actually like when Christopher compliments or teases me because it feels like he genuinely thinks he’s the one who lucked out, when the truth is, I feel exactly the same way. Like I waded through a pile of fuckboys and found my perfect fit on the other side.

So it feels easy enough to comply, and once I’m standing in front of him fully naked, Christopher gives me a head shake and says, “Yep. Congratulations to me. I can’t believe I have all… this .” He waves his hand up and down as he drops his shirt to the floor. “And you.”

“Take me. I’m yours,” I say simply. “And you’re mine.”

He shoves his pants down, kicks them off, and stalks over to me. Our mouths meet in a collision of tangled tongues and grappling hands. We kiss feverishly, making up for all those times we wanted to do this and couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. I’m not even fucking sure anymore.

“Bend over,” Christopher orders, roughly edging me over the arm of the couch.

I do what he asks, yanking open the drawer of the side table and pulling out a bottle of lube. I hand it back to him.

“I fucking love how prepared you always are,” he growls.

Then he’s teasing between my ass, sliding a fingerful of the cool gel deep inside me, his thumb massaging the rim.

“More,” I gasp, sensations slamming into me. I grip the back of the couch and shift my feet further apart.

When he surges into me, we both moan in mutual satisfaction.

“Yes, yes,” I pant.

“Fuck, Evan. You feel so damn good. Fucking perfection.”

His hand traces along my spine, ascending as he rests throbbing inside me. Then he yanks my head back by my hair. I gasp, absolutely turned on by his need to take control.

“Is that too much?” he asks, sounding slyly sure of himself that it is not too much.

“No. I love it. I love you.”

He swears, and then, still firmly holding my hair, he fucks me.

I pump my fist up and down my cock in a matching rhythm until we’re both shouting and losing our loads at the same time.

He releases my hair and runs a trembling hand down my back. Goosebumps raise on my heated flesh. “This isn’t the bedroom, is it?”

“Not even close.”

When he eases out of me, Christopher helps me stand up. My legs are shaking a little. He pulls me into his arms and smiles, his eyes bright. “I guess since you don’t have to be at work tomorrow, I can keep you up as late as I want.”

“That is one upside,” I agree. I take his hand and lead him across my small apartment to my room.

An hour later, we’re both spent. For now, anyway. I plan to take his promise to keep me up all night seriously.

“Tell me about you,” Christopher says as we lie wrapped up in each other's arms.

I’m basking in this newfound intimacy, this feeling of knowing we’re together. That nothing about us being together is clandestine or questionable or a secret.

It feels absolutely fucking incredible to be lying in my bed with the man I’ve been gradually falling in love with for the past year.

So the question catches me off guard and makes me chuckle. I sigh and turn on my side a little to face him better. “What do you mean? Tell you what? You’ve known me for eighteen months.”

“At the office, sure. I know you’re compassionate and capable and hardworking.

I know that you care about people, not just the law.

And I also know that you’re not really going to play pickleball on Thursdays and that you’re actually volunteering at the women’s shelter, offering them free legal counsel. ”

That makes me squirm a little. “How did you figure that out?”

“You don’t know any of the terminology. It’s not just baby tennis. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want it to seem performative. Like I was doing it just to make myself look good.”

I do it because everyone is entitled to legal counsel, especially the most vulnerable.

“I would never have thought that. I know your character through and through.” Christopher reaches out and runs his finger along my jawline.

“Now I want to know the casual you. What do you eat for breakfast, and do you always sleep naked, and what kind of TV do you watch? How hot do you like your shower? I want to know it all.”

“I can show you how hot I like my shower right now.”

His lips brush over mine. “Tempting. Very tempting. But give me ten more minutes.” He sighs. “Fuck, you wore me out in the best way possible.”

“I want to know all about you, too,” I tell him. “But we are going to have plenty of time to learn all of that. I plan to spend almost every night with you from here on out, you know.”

“Every night,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me on top of him. “I won’t settle for anything less. Not after waiting this long.”

My cock is already hard, just from his little demanding display. I love it when he’s possessive and entitled and bossy.

“What about the nights when I want to fuck Finley?” I ask him, teasing him a little. I don’t want to wait ten more minutes, and I know exactly how to get his cock hard. I start to rock my hips, rubbing my cock against his.

I reach out and nip at his bottom lip.

Christopher loves the idea of me with Finley. He also loves the idea of both of us with her.

“How many nights a week are we talking about? One? Two?” His hands are gliding down my back now, stroking over my ass and squeezing tightly.

“Four,” I say, just to fuck with him.

“Your counteroffer is grossly overreaching, counselor. I stand firm at two or I’ll withdraw entirely from negotiations.”

Considering his dick is now rock solid, he’s bluffing. I nudge his leg open with my knee and tease at his opening with first a finger, then the tip of my cock. “Two, if that works for Finley, and we work on talking her into us both fucking her together. At least once.”

“Yes,” he breathes, lifting his hips to urge me to enter him. “Tell me about her pussy while you fuck me.”

“Her pussy is so…” I thrust into him.

Christopher moans and grips my ass firmly.

“ Tight .”

“Yes. And it’s sweet and wet, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. She tastes like honey.” I ease in and out of Christopher.

“Harder,” he murmurs. “God yes, fuck me.”

I’m teasing us both, barely moving, wanting to draw this out. “I am fucking you. Just like I fucked Finley’s gorgeous little cunt.”

“Not enough,” Christopher pants. He slaps my ass, hard. “Fuck me, pretty boy.”

That makes my mouth go hot and my balls tighten. He knows exactly how to work me.

I immediately start sawing my cock in and out of his ass, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. Christopher’s eyes roll back in his head as I pound him.

It doesn’t take long before I’m jerking back and spurting hot cum all over his balls and cock, fist tightening, pumping at the base of my dick.

I groan. “Fuck, Christopher!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” he encourages. “I love watching you come.”

Then he grabs my hand and rubs my palm over his cock, my cum a slick surface that allows for the perfect friction.

“That’s it,” I encourage. “Your ten minutes is up, boss. Come all over me.”

Together, we squeeze and rub his thick hardness until he swears with a loud groan and releases. I love watching the thick ropes of his cum arch over our clasped hands, mingling together with my own.

“Jesus,” I whisper. My heart is racing. “I can’t get enough of you,” I tell him. “I want to make you come over and over.”

“You are so fucking hot right now,” he tells me. “I love your dirty side, Evan.”

“I love everything about you,” I say, collapsing down on the bed beside him. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

I go to my bathroom and clean up, then return with a damp towel for him. I hand it to him and go to get us both glasses of water. When I get back to the bedroom, I set our water glasses on my nightstand, and notice Christopher is looking at his phone.

“Look at this,” he says, showing me his screen.

A text from Finley.

The three of us. You, me, Evan. One night together.

My stomach clenches with anticipation. “Holy shit. For a man who got fired, I’m having a hell of an amazing day.”

“You didn’t get fired—you quit. Now we get to tag team Finley’s pussy and wake up together whenever we want.” Christopher grips my chin and gives me a rough kiss. “I would say this day is fucking golden, my love.”

My love.

God, he’s so right.

My life is fucking golden.