Page 7 of Colt

“Workin’,” I replied. “I’m your tech man. It’s what I do.”

The SAA cocked an eyebrow. “Bullshit. You’re probably sextin’ some bitch.”

I laughed. “What the fuck do you know ‘bout sextin’?”

Atlas puffed his chest out. “You think I don’t send my Stitch some racy shit? I’m the fuckin’ king of sextin’.”

Breaker looked at him curiously. “Do you send her dick pics?”

“Couldn’t fit it in the shot, brother,” Atlas boasted as the door flew open and Prez walked in, followed by Abe.

“Couldn’t fit what in the shot?” Prez asked as he sat in his chair.

“My dick,” Atlas informed him.

John froze. “What ya takin’ pictures of ya dick for?”

“To send to my Stitch,” the SAA told him.

Prez’s head reared back. “You dirty fucker.” His nose scrunched up like Atlas was giving off a bad smell. “Gonna tell Soph to share the pics with me so I can pin that shit up all over the clubhouse. You’re fuckin’ shameful.”

“That’s what I was saying. My dick’s too big to get in the shot,” Atlas explained.

John turned to Abe, who’d sat looking at Atlas with interest. “Can you believe this fuckwit? Sayin’ his dick’s too big to get on camera.”

Atlas shrugged. “Got nothin’ to prove to you fuckers, but Sophie likened it to a Coke can.”

“Huh?” Bowie said.

Cash sat up straight.

“Fuck me,” I muttered.

“Coke can?” Breaker confirmed.

Atlas smirked. “Yip.”

Prez rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Show me.”

Atlas’s eyes rounded. “Fuck no. I’m not sittin’ in Church and whipping my cock out.”

“Well, you gotta show us now, boy,” Abe insisted. “You can’t say shit like that then leave us hangin’.”

“Hanging like Atlas’s dick, ya mean.” Bowie snickered.

“Bet it’s a choad,” Cash mused. “It’s probably thick as a motherfucker, but two inches long.”

Atlas smirked. “Ain’t got no choad, asshole. It gets to a twelve on a good day.”

Abe barked a laugh.

“What do ya mean ‘on a good day’?” Dagger demanded.

“It’s a ten-point five bordering on eleven most days,” Atlas explained. “But when my Stitch baby gets me really riled up, it gets to twelve.”

Dagger’s eyes narrowed on Atlas’s crotch, and he gestured toward it, repeating his request. “Show me.”

Atlas smirked. “Your family’s obsessed with dicks.”

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