Chapter 60

“Exactly. An autumn cliché.”

He kissed me again and rolled a hand up and over my chest, fingering my flesh for all the right reasons. When he pulled his lips away from mine, he said, “And for the record, I’m not a hater.”

“Which means you’re a lover.”

“Exactly. And good in bed,” he said, touching my navel and the strip of hair beneath it, teasing me and turning me on.

“Prove it then,” I told him.

And he did, lowering his left hand to my pubic triangle, and then to the hardening, briefs-covered cock between my thighs, sending our fresh relationship into a new level.

* * * *

Finn O’Rourke turned into an animal between my legs. His mouth worked my dick over, pushing his throat on its plump mass. His head shot up and down, sucking the island life out of me. He pulled down on my ball sack with his right hand and panted between a string of sucks and slurps, attempting to catch his breath.