Page 72 of Bull's Boy

He scowled down toward the main entrance of the house. His boy was too short to do it without needing a ladder, which he didn’t have. So when Bull had asked about it, he’d admitted he would probably just have to use one of his kitchen chairs.

That wasn’t acceptable, even if they’d been well-made, which they were not. There was no way in hell he was letting his boy climb up on a fucking chair at the top of these death-trap stairs just to change a fucking light bulb.

He was just throwing the old one away when Malcolm stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand down the front of his rebuttoned shirt. He stared at the trash and then at Bull, eyes narrowed a little like he was putting two and two together.

Then he hustled over to his front door and threw it open, craning his head out as he flicked the light switch on. Closing the door once more, he crossed his arms over his chest, a small frown on his lips. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Bull cupped both sides of his face, kissing him until he felt his mouth relax and then a little bit more, just because. “Yes, I did,” Bull said softly against his lips.

“You take such good care of me,” Malcolm whispered back.

“And I always will.”

Bull meant that with his whole fucking heart. Malcolm stared up at him, his eyes glassy. The tension between them grew, and this was it, the moment Bull had been waiting weeks for. He couldn’t be the first one to say it. He didn’t want Malcolm to feel pressured, like he had to say it back, so he’d waited as patiently as he could for his boy to realize just how perfect they were together. How their lives were just beginning together.

Malcolm’s lips parted—and someone knocked on the door.

Bull had half a mind to put his foot through it.

Pulling away, Malcolm frowned and muttered, “I don’t know who that could be.”

Moment effectively ruined, Bull took a couple of deep breaths and scrubbed a hand over his short hair, then grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. There would be time for them to exchange those three little words. He knew that. And yet, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. He stepped over to grab his phone where he’d left it on a small side table in the living room, keeping most of his attention behind him where his boy was opening the door.

“Oh. Hi, Dale,” Malcolm said unenthusiastically. “Did you need something? I was about to head out.”

Bull lifted his lip in a silent snarl. He couldn’t believe the balls on this asshole, showing up five minutes after he changed the light bulb that was Dale’s responsibility.

“This’ll be quick,” the guy said, his voice raspy like he smoked a couple of packs a day. “I just wanted to let you know I have to raise your rent $300 a month.”

Malcolm sucked in a breath, and Bull took a couple of steps toward him. “$300?” Malcolm repeated, astonished. “That’s—you can’t do that.”

“Sure I can,” Dale said without a hint of remorse.

“Well, I don’t know how I’m going to afford it,” Malcolm said absently, glancing over his shoulder at Bull and then looking away quickly, his face turning red.

“Maybe we could work something out.”

There was no fucking way this guy was about to suggest what Bull thought he was, was there? Bull stepped up right behind the door but kept his footsteps light, doing his best not to makea sound. His poor, oblivious, former straight-guy boyfriend just looked confused.

“Okay. Work it out how?”

“That huge guy you’ve brought over here a few times—he your boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?” Malcolm’s spine stiffened, the hand he still had on the edge of the door tightening until his knuckles turned white.

Bull clenched his jaw to hold back the urge to take over the conversation. Had he seriously not seen Bull’s truck outside? Was this asshole loaded or something?

“Well, I was thinking,” Dale said, unconcerned that Malcolm hadn’t actually answered his question.

Bull almost laughed out loud. He would bet good money that what this guy was about to say had come about through the complete absence ofthinking.

“Whatever it is you let him do to you that makes you moan like that?—”

Malcolm gasped and stumbled back like he’d been shoved, face draining of color.

“If you’re willing to let me fuck you like that a couple of times a month, I can forget about raising your rent.”

Bull jerked the door the rest of the way open and filled the doorway. “Big mistake, asshole.”

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