Hunter knelt next to Mark. “What? What’s
wrong?”
Water from the jets drenched Hunter, making him
even more sexy, if such a thing was possible. Talk about a wet dream, in more
ways than one. “You’re built like a brick shithouse.”
Hunter sputtered. “What?”
Oh, fuck him running, did he actually blurt
that out? From the shocked—and pleased—look on Hunter’s face, he had.
“Mark?”
“Sorry. Sorry. I saw the wound and kind of
freaked. I, um, wow.” Son of a bitch, he wanted to climb Hunter. Mark was hard,
and there was no hiding it. “You, ah, you must live in a gym full fucking time.”
Stop talking! “Did you know that you’re uncut?” Why am I still talking? “I love an uncut dick. Best thing ever.” Kill me now.
Hunter’s alarm fled, and a grin spilled forth.
“I do know that I’m uncut, actually. Like what you see, huh?”
Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. “Yes.”
Fuck.
“I’m going to kiss you. Okay?”
Say no. Say no! “Yes.”
Fuuuuuck.
