Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I’d missed him, too. I always did, between our weekly dates. But it was different for him this time. His last six days had been spent traveling and having all kinds of new experiences, while mine had been exactly the same as every other week. This was more poignant for him, a homecoming of sorts, and it made him even more passionate than usual. That was saying a lot, because he was already a very passionate person.
He picked me up and pressed my back to the wall as he kissed me. Then he hip-checked the button to close the garage door before carrying me to the sofa.
I’d learned a lot over the past month, including how to thoroughly prep myself beforehand, so we could pretty much get right to it. In a matter of minutes, both of us were naked, his cock was in my ass, and I was on my hands and knees on the sofa, rocking back to meet each thrust. Both of us came within a few seconds of each other. Then we took turns cleaning up in the bathroom before returning to the couch and curling up together in just our briefs.
He kissed me again before asking, “Did I tell you how much I missed you?”
“I’m guessing it was a lot, judging by how hard you just came.”
Lucky grinned at me as he trailed his fingertips up my spine. “I missed fucking you, too, but that’s not what I meant.”
“So, how was Miami?”
“The same as always—hot, humid, and busy. It was nice to spend time with my dad, even if all he could talk about was work. I had a couple of obligatory family dinners with some of my cousins, too. They’re all straight, married, and older than me, so we never really have much to say to each other, but whatever. Other than that, I read reports, sat in endless meetings, and tried my damnedest to care about things like mid-quarter earnings, crop yields, and all that crap.”
“Crop yields?”
“Yeah. Tequila is the cornerstone of our company, and production is dependent on a plant called blue agave.”
“That’s grown in Mexico, right?”
“Exactly. My dad has a farm down there, and he also contracts with a co-op of neighboring farmers.”
“Why did he ever decide to make tequila?”
“He actually started out making rum, like his family did in Cuba. But then he sold that company and signed a non-competition agreement, which meant he couldn’t make rum anymore. Tequila was fair game, though. There was a lot to learn in switching from one product to the other like that, but my dad always loved a challenge.”
“When you said the company makes alcohol, I didn’t realize how much was involved.”
“It’s a complex business, and it all starts with those farms. I spent three summers in Mexico interning when I was in my late teens, because my dad felt it was important that I understood every aspect of the product.”
“That must have been interesting,” I said.
“In some ways. I loved being immersed in Mexican culture, but the rest just didn’t excite me. My dad’s passionate about all of it though, down to the smallest details of running a business. I just—well, it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s not your thing. I get that. It’s kind of like when I tried to major in business when I was in college. I really wanted to stick with it, because it was important to me to end up with a good job after I graduated. But it just didn’t grab me.”
He asked, “What did you end up majoring in?”
“I finally settled on Information Technology. I know that must sound dull, but I enjoyed it. Plus, there are a lot of job opportunities in that field, so it seemed like a smart choice. What was most important to me was a secure future, one where I’d never have to move back in with my parents or rely on them for anything.”
Lucky grinned and told me, “Ironically, I’ll be moving in with my dad when I return to Miami.”
“Oh! No, I didn’t mean—”
“No, I know you weren’t saying there’s anything wrong with that in general.”
“Exactly.”
“My dad and I will probably drive each other nuts, but this arrangement makes sense,” he said. “He’s not retiring right away, so we can commute to the office together. More importantly, I can make sure he actually leaves at a decent hour instead of working until ten every night. Plus, he’s all alone in his big house, and I worry about him.”
“I think it’s great that you two are close. Was it always that way?”
“Yeah, he’s always been really loving and supportive, especially when I came out to him.”
I asked, “How old were you?”
“Seventeen. I was so afraid to tell him, but once I did he decided right away that my happiness and well-being were more important than what he’d been taught to believe about homosexuality. It surprised me, but it shouldn’t have because he’s a great dad. I just wish…”