Epilogue
Trevor fast-forwards 4 years.
Four years can really change a person.
Unless that person happens to be named Benjamin Gage, who is as immature as ever, eyeing me suggestively over the table at this ritzy restaurant as he ever so slowly dips his breadstick in and out of the garlic butter sauce over and over and over again.
I’m apparently in love with a thirteen-year-old who makes lewd sex jokes in public, shamelessly plays footsy with me under the table the whole time I’m trying to enjoy my shrimp scampi, and is insatiably horny at all hours of the day.
I finally crack a smile and proceed to muffle my laugh with a cloth napkin. And I can’t get enough of him.
I don’t mean to be “one of those gross lovey-dovey guys”, but pretty much every weekend is like this now. Benjamin spoils me with some fancy dinner at a restaurant, we hit the town for a bit to kick back and have fun, and then we’re home cuddled up on the couch with a movie. Lancelot has taken a liking to me ever since we conquered Mount Benjamin and reclaimed the terrace from the evil bird beak posse, so he’ll often cuddle with us too or sit on the rug below our feet.
Comically, he’ll leave right when Ben and I start to kiss and decide we can’t make it to the end of the movie without losing ourselves in each other’s massaging hands and explorative lips.
Spoiler alert: all our massages have happy endings.
This particular weekend, however, is special—and not just because it’s my three-year anniversary of the incredible job I landed as a freelance writer for one of the country’s largest media publications. This weekend is special for a reason which will be unveiled after we get home and my final plans come together.
“You’ve been really jumpy today,” notes Ben, eyeing me as we walk back to our apartment under the evening sun—which tries and succeeds at turning the sky into a breathtaking painting of warring orange and brilliant blue colors.
“After watching your breadsticks fornicating with the garlic butter sauce for an hour,” I quip back, “I think I have a library of reasons to be jumpy.”
He leans into me, clasping my hand. Yes, we’re holding hands. I know. Who am I, right? “I’m jumpy, too. I want to jump on you.”
I smirk, feeling the inevitable tickle of excitement chase its way up my neck—the tickle that always leads to a night of hot sex. “Can’t you contain yourself until we get home?”
“I know why you’re jumpy,” Ben decides. “It’s because we both have next week off, we’re heading to our spot in Cancún so you can get your pretty butt pampered the way you like, and you know it’s our anniversary next Friday, so—”
“You make me sound like such a damned princess.”
“Prince,” he corrects me. “And you are.” He reaches around to give my ass a firm, aggressive squeeze. I melt whenever he does that. The way he grabs my butt is so “this is mine”, like he wants to remind me of exactly what he plans to do to it later.
I am so his. And I’ve been totally his for four years.
Of course, his own beefy butt, swollen biceps, chiseled jaw, brilliant eyes, and plump lips are all mine. So it goes both ways.
Before we even enter our home, Lancelot is already scratching excitedly from the other side of the door. When we open it, both of us are tackled by the eager dog and all his pent-up, face-licking excitement. This happens every day now, by the way.
“Dinnertime!” I announce as I finish plating Lance’s meal on a dish, which I serve at his spot at the table. Ben was adamant about Lance being served at the table like a member of the family—our son, in many ways—and not in a bowl on the floor. I was quick to embrace it, since Lance and I have all but become best dog-and-human buddies. And really, I’ve come to love him just as much.
Speaking of dogs, my phone dances on the counter with a call. As it rings, I watch Ben go up the stairs while slowly stripping off his clothes, leaving a deliberate trail that ends with him naked at the top, slowly sauntering to the bathroom—and knowing full well he has my complete and undivided attention. What a cock tease.
I bite my lip, hard in an instant, then pick up the phone and decide to deal with the call quickly. “What is it, Elijah??” I blurt.
“Whoa, bro. Really? Did I interrupt you giving Ben an enema or something?”
“Just about,” I answer, impatient to rush upstairs and join Ben in the shower, which is where I assume he’s gone. “What do you need? Be quick. Ben’s naked. This only happens four times a day.”
“I’ll be so in-and-out quick, you won’t know who the daddy is.” He clears his throat. “Basically, we’re pregnant again.”
I gape. “Oh my God. Are you serious??”
“I know, I know. Ashlee and I already got our hands full with number one—our noisemaker Emma—and now we’re popping out another. We’re gonna be a family of twelve by Christmas.”
“That’s … not even physically possible.”
“Shush with you and your smarty-smartness,” he fires back. “Speaking of Ben and giving him enemas for the rest of your life. When are you two gonna finally … y’know? It’s been four years, bro. You’ve waited long enough.”
I glance back at Lance, who’s still innocently chomping down his meal at the table. “Don’t jinx it.”
“Jinx what? Hey, dude, tell me I’m gonna be your best man. I’ll throw you the biggest, gayest-ass bachelor party …”
“Nah, Lancelot is my best man. You’ll be my ring bearer.”
Elijah chuckles. “You’re such a dick.”
I find myself overcome suddenly with all that’s happened over the years. Elijah and Ashlee’s wedding and the unexpected early birth of their daughter Emma. Getting my dream job and the man of my dreams. Benjamin and his overwhelming list of A-list clients brought on by his totally-doesn’t-give-two-fucks approach—inspired by the unapologetic now-twenty-something Hawk. Rebekah and her opening of a new firm in California.
Ben also finally got a unique surprise in the form of meeting a very peculiar woman friend of his for the very first time. I wasn’t really sure who she was, but she wore a face-swallowing scarf, huge sunglasses, and a sunhat that could provide shade for a small country. When she got a look at me, the only thing she said to Ben was, “No wonder you had the ants in your pants about this pretty boy,” in her thick German accent. Then she poked him in the ribs and added, “I bet you go through ten bottles of chocolate syrup in a week with this one.”
I still have no idea what she meant by that, but it made Ben laugh so hard that even the stoic, strange woman seemed to smile with her eyes, twinkling happily that they finally got to meet.
I even had the pleasure of meeting Ben’s parents, who took to me rather well, considering Ben doesn’t think too highly of them. But I like to believe that after my meeting his family and pushing Ben to reconcile with them, their relationship is now stronger. Maybe he was inspired after meeting my own family—especially my mother, who basically treats him like a second son now.
And maybe it’s all these thoughts that inspire my next words. “Elijah, your friendship means so much to me. I’m so happy you found the one. And in all sincerity, congratulations to you both.”
“Aw, shucks, dude. You’re gonna make me cry.”
“If you keep me away from Ben any longer, you’re gonna make him cry. I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you his answer.”
“His answer to what?” asks Elijah, but I’ve hung up already.
Not wanting to interrupt Lance’s dinner, I get him ready, then rub behind his ears encouragingly. I level my eyes with his. “You wait for the cue,” I murmur to him. He answers by licking my cheek, which I take for him understanding me. “Good boy.”
I’m up the stairs in seconds. I take off all my clothes outside the bathroom door, then push my way in.
The steam swirls around my naked body. Peering through the fog, I spot Ben’s sexy wide shoulders in the enormous renovated shower—which was my idea to renovate, inspired by the giant one we enjoy every time we visit Cancún. He pretends not to see me, lifting his arm as he demonstratively scrubs his pit with a bar of soap. I saunter up behind him, closing the distance between us. The steam had already cloaked my body in a sheen of warm moisture, but now the hot water falls over my skin as our bodies unite. My cock presses up against his pert butt cheeks. I slide my hands around his torso, cupping his pecs from behind.
He continues to play coy, washing himself slowly, sensuously, his arms in the air as he focuses on his pits. I continue to scrub something of my own: my cock between his cheeks … until it slips right between them and teases at the hole.
Ben’s head turns slightly, half-looking at me over his muscled, tatted shoulder. “You playing ‘knock, knock’ back there?”
“I’m playing ‘breaking and entering’, actually.” I have sorely underestimated how good his cheeks would feel engulfing my cock when it’s this hard. “And I’m gonna get in.”
The slickness is driving me crazy. If his soapy dick sticking straight up is any indication, he’s turned on just as much as I am.
“You asked what I wanted for our anniversary,” I tease him. “I think you know damned well what I want.”
“My big, beautiful pair of beef bubbles wasn’t on the menu,” he teases right back, a crooked grin on his face.
“Beef bubbles.” I snort against his back, shaking my head in shame. “Really, you outdo yourself.”
His chuckles echo all around us. I cling tighter to his body, my arms embracing his torso as my cock continues to grind and hump his—big, muscular hump.
My cock keeps poking at his hole, then slipping past it, over and over. The sensation of his hole as it slides over my sensitive cockhead makes my breath jagged with anticipation.
“Please,” I beg him, pressing myself against him so tightly.
The soap slips from his fist and plops onto the ground.
He glances down at it, then sheepishly looks back at me over his big shoulder. “I, uh … seriously didn’t intend to do that.”
Never mind him bending over anyway; I push my man against the shower wall and grind my slippery cock between his butt cheeks. Each time my cockhead grazes his hole, it gets that much more difficult to not shove the whole length of it inside.
“You’ve gotten really bossy,” Benjamin notes.
“I learned from the best,” I moan back, one of my soapy hands sliding down his form and slipping its way between his cheeks. I tease his hole with a finger, daring to see if it’ll slip inside.
Then, with surprising ease, it does—right to the first knuckle. Ben moans the second my finger enters him. All his back muscles flex, gleaming beautifully under the running water.
“I’m collecting my anniversary gift early,” I whisper to him, the shower taking away half my words and scattering them across the walls along with the water droplets.
“Prince Trevor is a greedy prince …”
My finger continues to stretch him, working its way in and out of his tight, slippery, smooth hole. My cock is pulsing with so much anticipation, desperate to get inside, that I feel myself leaking all over his ass as I continue to grind against him.
I kiss his backside and up his neck, relaxing him, soothing him just as he soothed me the first night he took my virginity. “You’re beautiful, Benjamin Gage.”
“I’d say the same of you,” he moans, his chest pressed against the shower wall, “if I could see you.”
“Never mind seeing me. You’re about to feel me. Every inch.”
I add another finger to the first. He’s officially humping the shower wall, his eyes rocking back and his lips parting.
“Trevor … fuck. I didn’t expect this to feel so damned good.”
“Just wait ‘til I’m inside you.”
He’s loosened so much, I’m slipping in and out easily. Almost seamlessly, I replace my fingers with my cock, and in I go.
“Oh my God,” he breathes, half a groan, half a hiss.
I start pumping him from behind. I know what he’s feeling because I’ve been on his end before, but I did not anticipate the amount of insane pleasure that I would be flooded with the instant I entered him. The tightness alone is overwhelming, how his ass squeezes and massages my cock with every pump I give him.
He returns every thrust I give him with a hump of his own. I push into his ass, and he pushes his cock against the wall.
It’s one of my favorite pastimes, having any part of me being engulfed by his ass, after all. Face. Tongues. Hands. I guess it was only a matter of time before my cock got a turn.
I pull him away from the shower wall just enough to grab hold of his slippery dick, then start to stroke it slowly at first, knowing how unfathomably hard and sensitive it is.
“Careful …” he warns. “I could blow at any second.”
“I’m counting on it,” I moan right back, my words disturbing the steam that dances in front of my face, “because I want you to blow your load the second I say.”
“You got it, boss,” answers Ben with half an evil grin, dimples popping out of his chiseled cheek.
We manage a rhythm that rocks us both into a state of ecstasy that neither of us are likely to endure for much longer. The closer I get, the closer he gets—I can tell with how his cock pulses in my hand and the unevenness of his breaths.
“Five …” I whisper. “Four …”
“I love you, Trevor.”
I keep pumping his ass with my cock and stroking him with my slippery, skillful hand. “Three …”
“Oh, God …”
“Two …”
His dick already begins to convulse, my man rushing over the brink of no return. “Trevor …”
“One,” I grunt just as my orgasm ripples through me.
We both empty ourselves at once. He cries out in bliss, his moans vibrating the shower walls as he dumps his load all over my hand and the tile below. I erupt inside him, driven crazy by the tightness of his big muscular ass. It flexes and tightens from his own orgasm against my cock, which makes my coming all the more exciting. Our orgasms must last a solid minute, for as many times as we groan and convulse against one another’s bodies.
Then we’re spent, pressed to the wall of the shower as we breathe deeply and collect ourselves. The water slowly continues to run over our bodies, cleaning us and soothing our minds.
When I pull out, Ben spins around and attacks my face, kissing me so passionately that I even feel the muscles of his jaw work.
He pulls away and stares longingly into my eyes. “I love you, Trevor Woodard. Also, happy early anniversary,” he adds with a devilish smirk.
I grin. “I love you, too, Benjamin Gage.” I give his butt a slap, then add, “But I have one more surprise.”
“Is it a cake?”
I don’t tell him another thing. We clean ourselves off under the hot, powerful spray of water, then slip out to dry. Benjamin continues to eye me suspiciously as we throw on some underwear, and by the time we lie on our bed, he looks like a petulant child who refuses to wait for Christmas morning. It’s almost adorable, his impatience when he’s the one so used to being in charge all the time. I should remember to make him wait more often.
“So?” Ben prompts me, lying across the bed and staring at me as I sit on the foot of it. “What’s this surprise?”
I smile and act cool, but really, my heart is pounding. I’m so fucking nervous. Can I do this?
“What is it??” Ben presses again.
I swallow hard, then lift my hands up and clap twice. The tiny tinkling of Lance’s collar is heard in the distance, and before ten seconds have passed, Lance pads excitedly into the room and sits on the floor in front of the bed, staring up at us expectantly.
“Aww,” sings Ben, coming up to the edge to look down at his loyal knight. “You taught him a new trick! You’re so damned good at that.”
I look over at Ben, all the humor gone from my face as I peer into his beautiful eyes. This is the moment, I coach myself.
Ben meets my eyes, notices my expression has straightened, and then his own follows suit. “What is it, babe?”
I take a breath. “This … is Lancelot’s best trick yet.”
Ben squints at me, confused, then takes another look at his dog. “Oh. His collar. It’s new. It’s …”
And then Benjamin leans forward, reaching out to inspect the charm that dangles from Lancelot’s neck. He freezes when he realizes it isn’t a charm at all.
It’s a ring.
I slip off the bed, then lower myself to one knee.
Ben’s eyes, wide and unblinking and stunned, turn to meet mine. “T-Trevor … babe …”
I unclip the ring from Lancelot’s collar, then present it with annoyingly trembling fingers.
“Oh … my … God,” Ben breathes.
I swallow again, my throat dry, my nerves tightening all over as I bring my eyes up to meet Ben’s, which are wet with emotion. “Benjamin Gage …” I start.
“You’re doing this. We’re … We’re really fuckin’ doing this …” Ben looks like he’s about to spill tears of joy or pass out before I’ve even began.
“Benjamin Gage. The day you came into my life … I’d been a total wreck.” I tighten my grip on the ring, my palms sweaty, my heart thrashing against my ribcage. “My life was totally derailed. I couldn’t tell up from down. I lost my mind every time I saw you. And I have, ever since, been downright head-over-heels stupid for you, Benjamin … and it’s all your damned fault.”
“Oh, babe …”
“Benjamin Gage, my love … ever since that first day I saw you at the club, and then met you for the first time all over again by diving at your feet in that office … I knew it would be my fate: I’ve fallen hard for my boss.”
Ben’s lip starts trembling. For the record, I’ve never seen him like this. He doesn’t cry at movies. He doesn’t sob for anything. And this big muscular man is about to cry. He’s so undone by such a simple act as bending the knee and presenting a ring.
Who knew this would be his weakness?
“Ben, my love, my everything … will you marry me?”
He rushes off the bed so fast, Lance jumps back in surprise. Ben wraps me up in his arms and lifts me off the ground, spinning me around, then sets me down to kiss me deeply.
He pulls away just an inch to answer, “Yes,” to my face, his breath warm and wanting. “Yes, Trevor Woodard. Yes, yes, yes.”
The ring slips over his finger, a perfect fit.
And then he kisses me again, and it’s this kiss that I will, for years and years, remember.
I hope all our kisses compete relentlessly with this perfect, powerful kiss. I hope all the rest of our moments alive try with passionate fervor to compare to this one when the love of my life, Benjamin Gage, kisses me with a ring on his finger.
And I hope, from this day forward, every single breath I ever take dares to be like the one he just stole from my lungs with this kiss—wholly, tenderly, and with all his bossy, stubborn heart.
The End.
*** Did you enjoy “Hard For My Boss”? ***
Keep turning the page if you’d like to read *two* FULL novellas from my Brazen Boys series, which is a collection of nine standalone M/M romances. I’ve included both “Dorm Game” as well as “Straight Up” for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy them!
Happy Reading, Always!
XXOO
Daryl