Page 73 of The Chemist

Fine. But first, shower.

Diesel grabbed a pair of joggers and a fresh T-shirt from his dresser and walked over to Zero’s room.

Zero was sitting on his bed, fiddling around with some surveillance equipment.

“I’m just going to take a quick shower, then I’ll come and help you go through the footage,” Diesel announced from where he stood standing in the open doorway.

Glancing up at him, Zero’s warm brown eyes seemed to pop against his soft, tanned skin and jet-black hair. Just like the painting, Zero was a vision to behold.

“That sounds good,” he said, giving him a gentle smile. “I’ll grab us some sodas, then meet you here in ten.”

Twenty minutes later, they were both sitting on Zero’s bed, staring at the laptop resting on Zero’s lap. Zero had downloaded the footage from the dashcam and was currently scrolling through it.

“Can you slow down a bit? We’re going to miss something important.” Diesel huffed over Zero’s shoulder.

They were pressed up against each other, with Zero’s back and shoulder resting against Diesel’s chest as he balanced the laptop.

It was a small bed.

Okay, it was a decent-sized bed, but it was a small laptop. And how else was he supposed to see the laptop if he didn’t press himself into Zero’s back?

Why does he smell so good?Diesel wondered to himself.

Smells good? Do you know who smells people?that annoying voice inside Diesel’s head asked.Serial killers. That’s who.

He wasn’t a serial killer. A doped-out drug addict who sold his body for money and had major trust and abandonment issues… sure. But a serial killer? No. He didn’t have the drive or dedication to be one. Or the stomach, for that matter.

“Relax. Stop backseat driving. Do you know how many hours of footage we have to get through? And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be here watching a closed door all night, waiting forDr. Pervs-a-lotto make a move.”

But you smell so nice.It was a genuine manly scent. Like sweat mixed with sandalwood, mixed with muscle.Fuck, he loved the smell of a man pressed up against him.

“D? Is that…” Zero’s voice trailed off.

“Is that what?” Diesel asked, looking over Zero’s shoulder and down at the image of the closed motel room door. Unless hemissed it, the doc still hadn’t left his room and still didn’t have any visitors.

Diesel watched as Zero’s finger moved over the laptop and stopped an inch away from his junk. Then it happened. Zero poked his boner with his finger.

Shit.He was so busy inhaling Zero’s scent that he hadn’t realized the smell had awakened the beast slumbering in his joggers. And, of course, he was freeballing it.

“Fuck.” Diesel groaned. “Sorry, dude. Guess I’m feeling better.”

Ask anyone, and guys will always say how much they wished they had a bigger dick and how lucky guys were who were hung. But nobody ever stops to think about the downside to having a big dick. You can’t just use any condom; it has to be XL or magnum—have fun purchasing those at a pharmacy!

Whenever you pop a boner,everyonefucken knows! There is no being discreet or going unnoticed. It’s just there—out there for everyone to bloody see.

When fucking? You need to use a shit ton of lube and take your time sliding it in. There is no jamming or shoving it right in. There are patience and waiting periods. It requires using your fingers or toys to help spread open the person you’re about to fuck before you even dream of sliding your cock into home base. What’s the saying? Big dicks are nice to look at but a real pain in the ass. Truer words were never spoken.

“Jesus, dude. You need to get that thing registered as a deadly weapon.” Zero chuckled, poking it two more times before returning his hand to the keyboard. “We need to be good. We have video footage to review.”

Yes, he needed to focus on the task at hand and not the image of his cock disappearing between Zero’s luscious lips.

“Stop. I can see your dick twitching from the corner of my eye.”

Diesel chuckled. “He’s just saying hi.”

Zero gave a quick wave before continuing to fast-forward through the footage.

“Wait,” Diesel blurted, pointing toward a figure that just appeared in the frame. “Press play.”

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