Page 67 of Bull's Boy

Bull stirred, sliding his hand over Malcolm’s and lacing their fingers together. “I’m awake.”

He pressed his face into his back to muffle his laughter. “No, you weren’t.”

“Well, I am now.” He turned over to face Malcolm, his eyes barely slit open. “Hey, baby, did you have fun?”

He kissed Malcolm, then nuzzled against his cheek before burying his face in his neck, finding the barely there hickey and softly kissing the skin. He was sure there would be a new one before too long. Bull couldn’t make it more than a few days before marking him again, usually on his neck but sometimes his thighs, and one memorable time on his ass cheek.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Malcolm said quietly, wrapping himself around Bull and holding him close. After a few long moments of enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and Bull’s gentle kisses, he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

Bull hummed in question and nipped at the edge of his jaw, sending goose bumps cascading down Malcolm’s spine.

He was still a little surprised with himself that he let Ollie talk him into getting waxed. As soon as he had walked through the door of CJ and Tank’s house, the other guys already there with music playing and laughing at some story Mason was telling, CJ had handed him and Ollie cups of blue liquid. After taking a quick drink, Ollie had turned to him and without any preamble said, “Are you going to let us wax you?”

He’d nearly choked on his own sip, which seemed fitting, considering he found out later the beverage was called a Water Hazard.

He’d watched a couple of the other guys get their junk and asses waxed, grimacing when Mason yelped, but the others had calledhim a baby. Emmett was there, but he refrained, saying his daddy preferred him natural.

Malcolm had never been all that hairy to begin with, at least not around his hole, and he kept the rest of himself trimmed. But when Ollie had clasped his hands and held them beneath his chin, fluttering his long eyelashes, and said, “Please, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again. But I think you will. You get all these new sensations. Oh, and I bet Bull will go crazy for it.”

He hadn’t been able to resist.

Bull slid his hand over Malcolm’s hip and skimmed his lips down his neck to nibble on his collarbone, sleepy but definitely interested. “What kind of surprise?”

Malcolm grabbed his wandering hand and guided it to his groin.

It took a second of petting over the bare skin for Bull’s half-asleep brain to catch up to the fact something was different. Then he lifted his head and squinted at Malcolm. “You shaved?”

“Apparently, the Sub Club all wax each other regularly,” he said, giggling at the look of astonishment that announcement got.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bull said absently, his fingers delving all around the base of Malcolm’s growing cock and then fondling his smooth balls.

“Do you like it?” Malcolm asked, squirming at the new feelings.

“Do you?” Bull said instead of answering, one finger creeping back across Malcolm’s taint and slipping up between his cheeks.

He sucked in a shaky breath. “Yeah, I think so.” His eyes fell shut as Bull explored all of his hairless skin. “Everything’s a little bit more sensitive now.”

Bull grunted and threw the covers off them. Malcolm gasped as he was rolled onto his back, then moaned as Bull kissed him, taking possession of his mouth. He wrapped his arms and legs around his big body, rocking himself up against Bull’s deliciously thick happy trail.

Kissing down his neck once more, Bull said against his warming skin, “I ain’t waxing shit.”

Malcolm burst out laughing, happiness erupting out of him before he could stop it. Bull lifted his head and smiled at him in a soft, intimate way that warmed his chest and spread out to the rest of his body, loosening his muscles.

“What?” he asked when Bull just continued staring at him.

“I love when you laugh like that. I don’t hear it enough.”

Malcolm caressed his bristly cheek, running his thumb over Bull’s damp lower lip. “The Water Hazards probably helped,” he admitted.

Bull’s brows furrowed.

“It was the drink that CJ made. Blue Gatorade, vodka, and Sprite. It was really good. You could barely taste the vodka.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Bull said, skimming his hands up Malcolm’s thighs. “Are you saying you’re drunk right now?”

Malcolm snorted. “Hardly, but I am feeling pretty good.”

Bull shifted his legs until Malcolm’s feet were flat on the mattress, thighs spread wide. “Should we see if I can make you feel even better?” Bull asked, an arrogant smirk curling his lips.

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