1
Colton “Scar” Hebb
Charley was givingmethatlook with his big brown eyes, the one that said he was pissed off by something I’d done. His full lips jutted more than usual, and his short brown hair stuck out at odd angles, as if he’d been running a hand through it. I fucking hated it when he stared at me like that, and he knew it.
I sighed. “What did I do?” I asked from where I was lazing on the couch in our apartment, my feet kicked up and my arm lying along the back of it. In my right hand was half a can of beer, and a muted news report I had no interest in watching played on the TV.
He stood in the open-plan kitchen, arms crossed and mouth twisted in irritation. The way he held himself drew my gaze to his slim hips. Travis, Charley’s brother, liked to tease we acted like an old married couple, and while I’d glared at him when he’d first said it on the day we moved in here to our new place, he wasn’t completely wrong. We’d learned a lot about living with each other outside of a prison cell, like how he folded his clothes as soon as he took them out of the dryer or liked to clean and polish his boots every few nights. Then there were the amazing dinners he cooked, classic Italian meals that had me in the gym twice as long as what I would usually do. I couldn’t say no to the way he made me food.
“Did you not fucking listen to a word I said?” He rolled his pretty eyes and slapped his hand on the stone counter he stood in front of and sighed. “Fuck, Scar, will you ever listen?”
“No,” I said honestly, grinning. Holding out a hand to him, I winked. “Come cuddle with me, Fish.”
He huffed. For a moment I didn’t think he was going to listen to me, but he relented and came around the kitchen counter and into the living room just as I rested the beer on the glass coffee table in front of me. He fell on top of me on the small couch, and I dragged him in for a kiss, slanting my mouth over his. Groaning, he returned my kiss until the tension slid out of his body, leaving behind a relaxed boyfriend.
“What were you angry about?” I whispered against his lips. He melted into me, and I held him tighter. Since meeting Charley in the big house, I had no desire to fuck another man. He was enough for me, the only sexy fucker I wanted. Breathing him in, I sighed against his neck.
“You.”
I grunted. “That much was obvious, but I won’t know what I did wrong until you tell me.”
“The fact that you don’t know is part of the problem, Colton.” He jabbed me in the chest, hard, and I winced. I hated it when he used that tone. It meant hereallywasn’t happy.
“What do you want from me? A sorry? I’m sorry.” I grinned at him. “I’m sorry, Fish.”
He gave methelook again. “Do you want to know what you did, since you forgot?”
“Yes?” I sounded unsure, but I smirked anyway. “If I listen patiently, will you let me fuck you?” Sliding my hand down his back to his ass, I leered suggestively.
He slapped my hand away. “You had some choice words to say about my nonno.”
“Ah.”Fuck. I still hadn’t learned when to keep my mouth shut. Even though his nonno wanted nothing to do with him, Charley was still overprotective of the man and the rest of his family. He hated it when I had bad things to say about them. “Do you blame me? He treats you and Eyes like shit.”
“He’s still our grandfather.” Charley heaved a large sigh and cuddled into me, laying his cheek against my shoulder. He smelled good, like fresh air and motor oil, and my favorite scent was him. It was hard not to get closer to him and get another good whiff. “Are you smelling me like a dog?” A grin quirked his lips.
“Yep.” I laughed.
“You’re not going to start pissing on me to mark your territory, too, are you?”
I blinked at him, thinking about it for a moment. “Depends, would you let me?”
“No,” he said, deadpan, and I laughed harder. He slid his fingers over my collarbone and under my black shirt, tickling the hair on my chest.
“Want to fuck?” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a romantic, Scar.”
“You don’t like me for my romance. You enjoy my cock in your ass.” I leaned in to kiss him again, but he slapped his hands over my lips, stopping me from getting any closer. He raised his eyebrows and alarm bells echoed in my head.
“When am I going to get a chance atyourass? We’ve been together for a while.” He pressed me back against the couch and shifted so his rounded, firm glutes were resting on my hardening cock. His weight was comfortable and familiar, and I wrapped my arms around him, dragging him closer.
Chuckling, I grinned at him. “Funny.”
His frown had my gut rearranging itself. I hated when he got like this. “I’m not kidding, Scar. Do you think I’ll ever get to fuck you?”
No, I hadn’t thought about it. Hell, I’d never bottomed for anyone in my life, and I never expected to give it up. Guys I’d fucked before liked my cock and never wanted my ass. In the time we’d been together, he’d only mentioned topping a couple of times, and I’d thought he was joking.
“Do you want to?” I grasped at his shoulders and yanked him back so I could look into his eyes. He wore his favorite gray T-shirt, the one with a faded black bike and the wordsBurn Outcurved around the top and bottom of the picture in the center, and a pair of jeans. He was beautiful like this, simple andat homewith me. He wasn’t dressed to impress or being someone he wasn’t.
