The beach was perfect.

Clear skies. Salt on the breeze. He had finally gotten his towel down on the warm sand, oiled his chest up, and was ready to tan in peace. Eyes half-lidded. Arms folded under his head. Looking all pretty and fuckable without even trying.

Unfortunately, his boyfriend was a cock-dumb menace.

Zeke hovered over him like a big, clueless puppy—sunglasses crooked, hair sun-bleached and messy, pecs glistening. His neon swim trunks were way too small, and the fat cockprint dragging down the front of them was just straight-up obscene. It bounced slightly every time he shifted his weight.

He had a bottle of coconut water in one hand and a boner in the other. (Figuratively.)

“Babe! You’re not hydrated!” Zeke chirped, beaming. “Also I got hard again.”

He didn’t move. Not even a flinch.

So Zeke dropped down onto the towel behind him with a heavy thump, grinning like he’d just invented cuddling. The ground shook a little. So did his patience.

“Awh yeah... this is the spot. Wait—shit. I sat on my own dick again.”

He shifted his hips, trying to get comfortable, which only made it worse. His hard-on dragged along the curve of his boyfriend’s ass—thick and throbbing inside those ridiculous trunks.

“Baaabe~ your back’s too soft. This ain’t fair,” he groaned, hips already rolling. “Why you smell so good today? Huh? You tryin’ to get knotted on the beach?”

He gave the smallest scoot forward.

Zeke scooted forward harder. His cock slid right up the crack of his boyfriend’s ass. His arms came around his waist like a heat-crazed koala.

“You’re leaking,” Zeke whispered, his voice low and a little too happy. “Like... a lot. I felt it through the towel. That’s so cute.”

He nuzzled into the side of his neck, still gently humping like it was instinct.

“You mad at me? That’s okay. You smell even hotter when you’re mad.”

There were people on the beach, but they were too far to notice—or pretended not to. Zeke didn’t care. His massive cockprint was now a full-blown public scandal and he was acting like this was just a sweet lil’ afternoon snuggle.

“I could knot you right now, y’know,” he mumbled into his ear. “Just a lil’ push. Slip it in. You’d moan into the towel like a good boy... maybe bite your arm a bit...”

He made a noise—dangerous. Zeke whimpered.

“Okay okay okay—no knot yet. Just the tip?? C’mon babe. I brought coconut oil.”

His hips kept grinding.

He was going to commit a felony.

Or explode.

Or both.