Page 7 of Six
“Damn it! I hate you,” I bark without any heat behind it.
“No, you adore me. Now give it to me.” He smiles smugly. Sometimes I forget how cunning he can be when he wants something—cunning in an utterly unassuming way.
I clear my throat, and darting my eyes around to make sure nobody will witness the embarrassing scene, I start shaking my butt and chest like I’ve been hit by lightning. I wave my arms in a sort of horrible hula dance while I sing, “I’m naughty, I’m bad like Michael J. said. You were right, and I was…wrong. I won’t forget where I belong.”
“And where is that?” he cheers.
“Fire pants hell,” I grunt this last part.
When I stop, Sully is chuckling, a colorful glove covering his crooked front incisor. I smother my smile because he kind of forced me to make a fool of myself. But my brother’s snorting laugh is infectious.
“God, your singing is the worst, and you looked too ridiculous.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Wha, wha, wha,” I mock a laugh. At least I got a bit warm with all that jiggling and wiggling.
We take the last few steps to the bus stop. The metal sign is bent, neon green scribbles cover part of it, and whatever was written on the other side faded away a long time ago. I’m actually a little surprised the pole is still standing, seeing as the gangs living in this area like to vandalize whatever they find.
I look up at the sky. It’s an overcast day. Light grey clouds have created a fluffy blanket, holding back the warm sun rays. One cloud looks almost like a fuzzy, muscular man. Large chest, big arms, thick thighs. My shivering-cold dick gives a faint twitch at the memory of a certain man.
“What’re you thinking about so hard over there?” Sully asks. When I don’t reply, he insists, “A problem shared is a problem halved.”
An icy gust of wind suddenly hits me, making me shudder.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is it Dick?”
It usually is, but not this time. Still, my brother’s concern for me always makes me feel guilty. Despite the fact that there’s someone who gives a shit about me in this fucking unforgiving world, Sully should be having fun, not worrying about his dumb big brother.
The bus is approaching the curb. Still riding the feeling, I pull Sully into a brief hug. “I love you, you nerd.”
He hugs me back, but soon shoves me in the gut half-heartedly as we move back.
“Weirdo,” he says.
After a pause, he relents, and looking at the slowing bus, he adds in a gruff voice, “I love you, bro.”
I smile at his back as he climbs inside. As soon as the doors close and the bus drives away, my head goes back to last night. To Hulk.
Since the first time I saw him in action, I’ve felt uncontrollable lust. He landed one single hook so potent the other fighter went down like a wall of bricks. But that wasn’t what enticed me so utterly.
It was the burning fire in his gaze just before the bell sounded. Then the way his eyes had turned empty, his expression blank. No anger, no fear. He became a machine, ready to dispatch his adversary. And yet, instead of doing that, heletthe other fighter have a go at him. Taking some punches, ducking most of the rest. Hulk played with him. That kind of confidence in his own skills was so fucking hot. Just like watching all those rocky muscles and twenty-one-inch biceps flexing and bulging.
Drool-worthy sexy. He also has an energy almost simmering around him, waiting to be released. I try to think of an appropriate word for it but can’t find it. I thought I’d get a glimpse of it in his gaze but when he finally focused those molten chocolate eyes on me, they were flat, hard, unreadable. He looked about as approachable as a cactus. And fuck if that doesn’t awaken my bratty, naughty side.
I turn around and start my long walk toward the recycling plant.
I also like a dude with some hair. The dark curls covering Hulk’s head looked soft, but the ones peppering his pecs made my hands tingle. I also noticed the hair in his pits as he reached up to rub the sweat off his body. I wanted to nuzzle my head there and inhale the musky scent of him.
My brother is right, I am a fucking weirdo. And a nutcase for salivating over the crazy beast who could definitely kill me with a punch.
I still can’t believe I hit on him. I’m usually brazenly forward when I want someone. When my cock decides it wants to play, there’s no stopping it. My success rate is pretty high in bars, not that I have that much experience. But propositioning a guy in that fighting circle? I must have been affected by temporary insanity. Sully is right, those people are dangerous. And I’m trying to get out of this criminal world, not get into it deeper. Not that sucking a cock would do that.
But I do feel a tad curious about him. Who wouldn’t? He’s sex on a stick, a mountain of stamina ready to let go on my ass. Just the thought makes all the blood go south, turning my dick into a throbbing mess. And the memory of the bulge in his pants, shit! The fabric barely contained the huge trunk pushing out from between his legs.
He called me boy, thinking I’m underage or something. I’m fucking twenty-three. My almost hairless body makes me look younger. It’s a brothers’ curse apparently. In hindsight, I could have phrased the BJ offer differently. But one glance at that bottomless stare and rugged appearance, and all my brain cells went on strike.
Thirty minutes later, I arrive at work. I used to have a bicycle, but it got stolen after a month. So, walking everywhere it is. I start my morning shift, feeling every aching movement in my bruised side. Loading fertilizer from the factory to the trucks isn’t the most pleasant job. But for being an off-the-books gig, it pays good. And I need the money. Ned, my boss, is kind of an asshole and doesn’t care about anyone and their excuses. He once fired a guy for going to his mother’s funeral instead of work. But as long as he gives me extra shifts, I’ll come anytime he calls and without complaint.
