Page 43 of Bull's Boy

Which… was probably a lie.

He didn’t have anyone else to talk to about what was happening between him and Bull, so he’d probably cave eventually. On their way into the restaurant earlier, she’d already been badgering him to spill the details of what had happened after he’d talked to her on Sunday. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or didn’t want her opinion. It was just that a bigger part of him wanted to keep what was happening between him and Bull just between the two of them, at least for a little while longer.

Plus, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t have much advice for some of the things he was contemplating. As far as he knew, she and Becca were…veryvanilla. What kind of advice would she have if he told her that sometimes, when Bull called himbaby boy, he had the urge to call himDaddy?

He frowned at the burnt-out light bulb above his door. Sighing, he sent a text to his landlord about it, knowing it wouldn’t amount to anything. He’d end up having to buy a new bulb and teetering precariously on one of his rickety kitchen chairs.

He took a quick shower, rinsing the smell of food off himself, and contemplated texting Bull to see if he was at home. Would that make him seem needy, though? Pulling on gym shorts andBull’s T-shirt that he’d “accidentally” stolen, he settled on his couch and stared at his phone.

I am consumed by you.

Fuck, even if it did make him needy, Bull wouldn’t care. He shivered. He had a pretty good idea of just how much Bull wouldn’t mind—would, in fact, appreciate Malcolm being open and honest about what he was feeling and wanting, just like Bull always was with him.

God, this man had him tangled up in knots, and it had only been a fewdays.

Making up his mind, he threw his phone charger, toothbrush, and clothes for work the next day into a beat-up old Nike bag he’d bought at Goodwill a few years ago. There was a tiny hole in the seam near one of the corners, but otherwise, it worked just fine on the rare occasions he used it.

He practically skipped all the way back out to his car, a feeling of anticipation expanding inside him, making him light as a feather. A reel of sights and sounds from the day before combined with the things Bull had said to him earlier in Sally’s office and replayed in his head as he backed out of his parking spot and headed down the street. His dick was half-hard by the time he reached the first stop sign.

As he pulled up outside of Bull’s house a few minutes later, much of those happy feelings had dissipated, replaced with worry he was going to bother Bull. It was late, and he hadn’t checked the schedule to see when Bull would be going in tomorrow. Sally usually covered opening, but not always. What if Bull was already in bed or relaxing and would be annoyed at the interruption?

He shook his head. He could be chill. He’d just see what Bull was up to and check if he was interested in hanging out. Nodding to himself, Malcolm turned off his car and pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text.

Malcolm

Hey, are you still up?

Right after he sent it, he realized what it sounded like. God, he might as well have sent an eggplant emoji and some water droplets. Grimacing and panicking a little, he quickly shot off another message.

Malcolm

I meant, are you already in bed?

Oh, fuck. Was that even worse? It sounded like he was about to ask what Bull was wearing!

Frustrated, he sent a third text, trying to ignore the horror show that was him attempting to be chill.

Malcolm

That’s not what I meant either. I was just wondering what you were up to.

That sounded normal. Like what a normal human with normal thoughts and desires would have sent.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started vibrating in his hand. Swallowing, he took a few steadying breaths before answering. “Hey, Bull.”

“Baby boy, why didn’t you just knock on the door?”

Slowly panning his head to the right, he stared at Bull standing in the open doorway of his home, wearing nothing but low-slungsweats, a shoulder propped against the jamb, phone in one hand and what looked like a kitten in his other.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Malcolm said slowly, grateful he was so far away that Bull couldn’t see how red his face was. “You know, in case you were already in bed for the evening.”

Bull chuckled, the sound low and tickling Malcolm’s belly. “Come inside.”

And then he hung up and disappeared from the doorway. Thanks to the light within, Malcolm could see it was still cracked open, welcoming him. Swallowing, he shoved his phone in his bag, climbed out, and hustled up the driveway, cutting across to the porch on the curved sidewalk. Just as he laid a hand on the door to push it open, a little gray face appeared in the gap.

“Dammit, Rose,” Bull growled, his heavy footsteps moving closer. “You’re an indoor cat now.”

Grinning, Malcolm scooped up the tiny kitten and slipped inside, using his back to shut the door behind him. He scratched under the fluffy escape artist’s chin, grinning when she started to purr. Glancing up at Bull, shyness nearly overwhelmed him. He sank his teeth in his lip. “Um. Hey.”

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