Page 26 of Hot Doggin'
Macbelongs to me.
He always has, though. He’s always been mine.
“I didn’t mean—” I break off and chuckle with him, dragging my fingers through my hair. “I don’t want you to hide your pain just to kiss me.”
His red face breaks out into a huge grin that stretches from ear-to-ear. “I’m kissing you.”
I can’t not laugh with him stating the obvious like it’s the best thing since the invention of sliced bread. “Yeah, we’re kissing. Imagine that.”
“Oh, I have. Many times.”
“Wait, seriously? Since when?”
“Fuck you. I’m not telling.” His eyes light mischievously.
God, I want to kiss him all over again. I just sort of collapse on his lap with my head against his chest. McCormick cards his fingers through my hair and smiles down at me.
“How did we even get here?” I ask, wondering aloud.
“Once upon a time, years ago, this big bear motherfucker walked into the Bitches with Stitches meeting and plopped his scowling ass down beside me and he’s been there ever since. Right beside me.”
God damn him, getting me choked up when I’m still rock hard. “And you know what? He’s not scowling anymore,” I add, “he’s smiling.”
Mac bends down and kisses the smile right off my lips. “So am I,” he breathes over my lips. “I don’t know how we got here, and I don’t care. It’s been a long time coming and, you know what? It feels right. It feels good.”
It does. It feels fucking amazing.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
MCCORMICK
“Listen up allyou beautiful people and badass sons of bitches!” Craig, a rep for the ALR, yells into his mic. “On behalf of the American Legion of Riders, thank you for your service and your sacrifice, and for your continued support of veterans everywhere. Happy fucking Veteran’s Day!”
His short speech is followed by a loud rally cry from the assembled bikers.
Holding a full plate, I lift my prosthetic leg carefully over the wooden bench and sit my ass down across from Stiles at an empty picnic table. The yard outside of the ALR headquarters is packed with families. Bikes and vehicles fill the lot. Stiles’s plate is piled higher than mine, with baked beans, potato salad, chunks of watermelon, and a burger.
“Do not eat that!” he warns, pegging me with a hard glare.
“What? Why?” From the look on his face, I get the feeling the hot dog hovering near my lips is turning him on. It’s an entirely new and novel feeling and I don’t know whether I’m turned on or amused.
“You put that hotdog in your mouth and everybody here will know what’s up.”
“Shit,” I scoff. “If Idon’teat the hotdog, everybody’s gonna wonder what’s up.”
“Eat the burger instead.”
Arching my brow, I challenge him. “You don’t think I could make the burger look sexy?”
Stiles tries to glare, but his face crumples in laughter.
I reach for the burger. “Are you gonna tell me when I can play with your dick again?”
He chokes on the bite in his mouth, and a coughing fit ensues. His immediate reaction is to look around to see who overheard, but then he checks himself. “Are you gonna tell me how long you’ve been wanting to?”
Nice try.“You first.”
