Page 68 of Hot Doggin'
“Stupid fucking name for a unicorn,” Stiles mumbles under his breath. “Come on, let’s go check out the personal care aisle and see if they have industrial-sized bottles of lube.”
We pass employees manning little carts on almost every aisle. They’re giving away samples of cowboy caviar, taquitos, marinated mushrooms, and cheesecake. This store really is amazing. A Mecca of necessities and indulgences, with a free meal to boot. You seriously can’t beat it for a night out on the town.
I hold up my hand, and Stiles slaps me a high five. “We've mastered this dating shit on our second try.”
“Clearly, we’re fucking awesome,” Stiles agrees.
I wait for Stiles to step out of the shower before barging into the bathroom. And he says I’m not considerate of his privacy. I’m totally considerate! He grabs a towel from the bar on the wall and wraps it around his hips.
“Come on, man. We talked about this.”
“What? I waited until you were out of the shower.”
Stiles braces his arms on the counter and leans into the mirror, examining his beard to see if it needs a trim. Coming up behind him, I grab his hips and pull him back against my groin, shamelessly rubbing my semi-hard dick against his ass.
“My hot little side.”
“Your what?” He grins at me in the mirror, looking sexy and devilish. “Baby, I ain’t your side piece. I’m the main fucking course.”
“You sure are.” My gaze eats him up like a piece of ribeye steak.
Stiles frowns like something just occurred to him. “If I’m your side piece, who’s your main squeeze?”
“Not side piece,” I laugh, “side. We’re sides.” Stiles looks even more confused. “Rhett explained it to me. Dudes that hook up without penetration are sides.”
Stiles shakes his head and grabs the scissors from the medicine cabinet. “I still don’t get what that means.”
“Neither do I.”
Stiles trims a few stray hairs that have grown out longer than the rest of his beard. I’m grateful he doesn’t kick me out of the bathroom when I unwrap his towel and squeeze his cheeks in myhands. He’s got the nicest ass. Firm and round, with a dusting of dark hair, but not too much.
“Wait, you said if there’s no penetration, it's not gay. But now you’re telling me there’s a label for guys like us? Sounds pretty fucking gay.”
“Yeah,” I admit with a laugh, my attention still diverted on his ass. “It’s totally gay.”
Stiles laughs and pops his ass out to impress me, or to encourage me. He needn’t bother. I’m plenty impressed and encouraged.
“I should have known you’d say whatever you had to in order to get what you wanted.”
“Damn right, babe. I’m starting to realize that wanting you was the easiest thing in the world. It’s the answer to everything.”
“Mac, I'll be your side piece any day.”
I catch his dark eyes in the mirror, looking at me all soft and lovey-dovey. “It’s still not what that means, but okay.”
He turns, his fingers undoing the button on my shorts. “I don’t want to be a side. I want the entire fucking buffet.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying? He looks serious, so maybe? My shorts drop to my feet and I’m pretty convinced we’re on the same page.
“Go get that industrial-sized lube we just bought. I think we’re gonna need the whole bottle.” Stiles’s husky voice makes my cock kick and when he slides his hand inside my boxers, I’m at full mast and ready to set sail.
My heart beat is all jacked up, and I start to sweat, like I’m high on ecstasy. Not that I would know because I’ve never taken it, but supposedly this is what it feels like. Why am I nervous when this is all I’ve wanted?
“Stiles, this bathroom is way too small for what we’re about to do.”
“Right. Let’s move this to the bedroom.”
Sitting on the side of the bed, I look down at my prosthetic leg, remembering how uncomfortable I used to feel when I was about to have sex with a woman. The self doubt that would creep beneath my confidence, and make me so nervous that my dick would soften. With Stiles, I don’t have that problem. He always makes me feel confident and secure in my own skin. My leg has never been an issue with him.
