Page 23 of Hot Doggin'
“You’rea fucking squid,” he mumbles around a mouthful of peanut butter. It makes his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, warping his words.
His dick print, which is hard to miss in his skin tight skivvies, looks like a fucking elephant cock. Christ, is he soft right now?
If I close my eyes, I can still feel it in my hand—the hefty weight, hot velvet wrapped around hard steel.
“Fine,” he huffs, heading toward his bedroom. He catches me staring.Awkward. “What is it, my leg? It bothers you?”
He thinks I’m looking at his prosthetic? Shit, if only!
He looks hurt, but does he really not remember that four days ago I held his cock in my hand? That he almost kissed me? Ironic, considering I'm the one with the short-term memory, not him.
“Come over here and say that to my face! You know I don’t have a problem with your fucking leg. I’ve seen it a hundred times. I just haven’t seen all of… this.” I wave toward his body.
He stares, making sure I meant what I said and that I’m not just placating him. Fucker should know better than to doubt me.
“Fine, I’ll go put some clothes on.” He pauses as he passes the couch and gives me a once-over. Absently, he rubs his crotch, and then pulls the fabric away from his body, probably because his dick’s growing and needs room to breathe. It’s a fucking monster. “I’m gonna go… knit.”
“By yourself, in the bedroom with your laptop?”
“Yeah.” Mac’s face blushes redder than his hair.
“Well, don’t knit all over my side of the bed. I don’t wanna have to change the sheets.”
“Whatever,” he laughs, giving me one last look. “Sorry I busted in on your shower.”
Mac smirks, and it turns into a throaty laugh. He’s not sorry at all.
“Well, go… knit.” I suggest lamely. “I’m just gonna watch a movie.”
He changes direction and plops his ass down on the couch beside me. “Oh, then I’ll join you.”
“Not that kind of movie, dipshit.”
He realizes we were both going toknit.
“Fuck it,” Mac grins, “I’ll still join you.”
In those underwear? “That’s just weird, man.”
“Only if you make it weird.” He picks up the remote. “Netflix and boil?”
“Boil? Don’t you mean Netflix and chill?”
“We can boil some dogs, watch a flick together, and chill.”
Oh yeah, this isn’t weird at all. Let’s pretend last week didn't go sideways and that it’s not going to spiral into a total shit show by watching porn together.
“Alright, let’s do this. Netflix and boil.”
Mac busies himself in the kitchen while I try to find a movie. Why did I even mention I was gonna watch porn? One thing about McCormick, he has a stellar porn collection. Old school DVDs from the nineties. I think it’s the only reason he still owns a DVD player because he doesn’t own a lot of non-x-rated movies.
It’s not until he sits back down on the couch that I realize I’m on my knees, bent over with my ass in the air, covered by nothing but a short, thin layer of cotton. How else am I gonna look through his movie cabinet? He’s got quite the view right now. I risk a glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, he’s staring.
“Can I make you some popcorn for the show?”
“Sorry,” he laughs. “Let me help you.”
McCormick grabs a slim case from the lineup and pops it into the player. I recognize the cover. Am I not supposed to feel suspicious that he chose a movie with two guys and a girl?
