Page 76 of Bull's Boy

When his landlord had implied that he could save money by sleeping with him, he’d been more shocked in the moment than disgusted. But when his mom implied the only reason he was in a relationship with Bull was to get ahead in life, it made him feel dirty… and sad.

He was so fucking sad. His eyes filled with tears as Bull marched them down the hallway and out the front door.

“Any plan you had to attend the wedding, you can forget about it,” Bull said, his anger barely controlled as he spun around to face Malcolm. But when he laid his hands on the sides of Malcolm’s face, his touch was achingly gentle. “These pieces of shit don’t deserve you. You hear me, Malcolm? You’re better than them, and it’s time you cut them out of your life like the disease they are.”

“They’re doing a destination wedding” was what he said instead of “You’re right” or “I’ll think about it” or even “Just because you’re my daddy in the bedroom doesn’t mean you can tell me I can’t go to my brother’s wedding.” Though they both would have known that was a lie, the dynamic seamlessly seeping out to the rest of their relationship.

Bull frowned at him, leaning closer, like proximity was the reason he didn’t understand what Malcolm was talking about. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I couldn’t afford it, even if I wanted to go,” Malcolm muttered.

“Baby,” Bull said in exasperation, “yes, you can.”

Malcolm winced. “No, you c?—”

“You are mine,” Bull interrupted, his fingers tightening against the back of Malcolm’s neck. “My gorgeous, sweet, perfect boy. And we’re building a lifetogether—and that means finances too. So I want you to stop fucking worrying about the price of everything, okay?”

It was the same thing he’d been thinking about before they’d entered his parents’ house, and yet, after his mom’s cutting remark, the idea didn’t thrill him like it had not even an hour ago.

Malcolm swallowed, the burn in his eyes returning. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m just with you because of that.”

Bull kissed him punishingly hard and then said against his lips, “No one who actually knows you would ever think that. And I know you, Malcolm Kerr. Iseeyou.”

Had anyone ever seen him the way Bull did?

That was easy—no.

Not even Dahlia had seen the aching need inside of him. But Bull had. He’d found it and tended to it, fulfilling his needs in every imaginable way.

Malcolm stared at him for a long moment, their faces so close it almost made him cross-eyed. “I love you,” he blurted out hoarsely, surprising them both.

Or maybe not, because a moment later, Bull was wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight and whispering, “It’s about fucking time. I love you too, baby boy.”

“You have some fucking nerve!” a voice screamed at them as the front door slammed shut.

Malcolm jerked in surprise, twisting his head around and finding his red-faced brother, a vein throbbing on his forehead as he stormed toward them. Bull released him and took a step forward, placing himself between them.

“What are you talking about?” Malcolm said, gliding his fingers down the inside of Bull’s forearm, trying to placate him on the off chance he intended on punching someone else today.

“You, showing up here with him,” Evan said between clenched teeth, gesturing at Bull. “This is supposed to be a special day,and you just had to try and make it all about you and whatever freak show the two of you are up to.”

He felt Bull tense, so he wrapped his fingers around his forearm and gave it two quick squeezes, their silent sign forI’ve got this.

“I didn’t try to make anything about me,” Malcolm said calmly. “I just brought my boyfriend to a family event.”

“Boyfriend,” Evan sneered. “Couldn’t find yourself a woman who actually wanted you, so you decided to start batting for the other team? How fucking pathetic are you?”

He hated that his face flushed at the insult.

“You better watch yourself,” Bull said in a low, scary voice.

Evan finally seemed to notice the size of Bull, running his eyes over his body. He took a small step back but then refocused on Malcolm. “Whatever disgusting things you want to do at home is fine. But you won’t be bringing this shit around anymore, do you understand me?”

“I think we all understand you,” a feminine voice said.

They all whipped their heads around to find Cathy, Evan’s fiancée, coming around the corner of the house, her parents trailing behind her, faces pinched.

“Cathy, baby, that wasn’t what it sounded like,” Evan said quickly.

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