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I’m comfortable enough with my hetero status to say that if I did play for the other team? I wouldn’t just fuck Garrett Graham, I’d marry him.
Oh shit. He first-named me. Tucker only calls me John when I’ve really pissed him off.
Except now he’s pissed me off, so I first-name him right back. “What’s wrong with that, John?”
“Just out of curiosity, what constitutes a ‘nice cock shot’? I mean, is it the lighting? The pose?” I’m being sarcastic, but Dean responds in a solemn voice. “Well, the trick is, you’ve gotta keep the balls out of it.”
“Seriously,” Dean insists. “Balls aren’t photogenic. Women don’t want to see them.”
“But I’ve got a whole bag of gummy bears hidden in my desk drawer.” “Marry me,” I say instantly.
“Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I’m not sure I understand how planes even stay in the air.”
Same
“Well, you were looking at me like you wanted me to kiss you.” His blue eyes become heavy-lidded. “So I was thinking I might do that.”
But I don’t have enough experience to consider myself an expert penis-wrangler or anything.
“Has a girl ever faked an orgasm with you?” I blurt out.
Dean, who was on his way to the fridge, stops in his tracks so abruptly that if he’d been on skates, I would be wiping ice shavings off my face right now. “I’m sorry, didn’t hear you. What was that?”
I want her too, but I order my rapidly hardening cock to behave. This ain’t about us, bro. Only her.
Then I dip down and do the stupidest thing ever.
I kiss her forehead.
which is obviously bullshit since I had a front row seat to your hook-up last night—you know, when your tongue was bobbing for apples in the back of her throat?”
Oh, and my place in hell? Still solidly secured.
“Well, this has been fun, but I think I’ll go upstairs and kill myself now.”
“If you’re implying I want to have a threesome with you and my best friend, then I can assure you, I don’t.”
For a moment, he looks like a lost little boy, and suddenly I feel like bawling.
:(
Christ, everything about my life depresses the shit out of me.
“Bullshit. You look like your dog just died.” He abruptly glances around the clearing. “Oh shit, did your dog die? Do you have a dog?
“Hey, you know what they say,” Dean drawls. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” “No, I’m pretty sure they say put on a shirt when you go for a run, you cocky narcissist.”
“Narcissist? More like realist. Look at these abs, Wellsy. Actually, touch them. Seriously. It will change your life.”
It’s good to be home. Not to rip off Dorothy or anything, but there really is no place like it.
“Oh, he’s joining the team,” Dean declares. “I don’t care if I have to suck his dick to get him to agree to it.”
“You know what? I won’t just suck it,” he says slowly. “I’ll suck him off. You know, give him an orgasm.”
“I wasn’t punning. My name just happens to be a homonym.” His blue eyes gleam as he downright smolders at me. “I love it when you talk homonyms to me.”
“Go away, G. I’m wooing.”
“I’ll wait outside so my boy can keep, ah, wooing.”
I had no intention of throwing down tonight, but if some slimy mofo so much as looks at Grace wrong, he’ll be leaving this party on a stretcher.
“And then he insisted that I need to give you a chance, because you’re a—” I angrily air-quote Morris’s words “—‘stand-up guy who deserves another shot.’” Logan breaks out in a grin.
They fucking Brangelina’d themselves?
“I’m writing a love poem,” I answer without thinking. Then I slam my lips together, realizing what I’ve done.
“I just have one question,” Garrett starts. “Really?” Tuck says. “Because I have many.”
“Hey,” I say as inspiration strikes. “What if I steal the words to ‘Amazing Grace’? I can change it to…um…Terrific Grace.” “Yup,” Garrett cracks. “Pure gold right there. Terrific Grace.” I ponder the next line. “How sweet…” “Your ass,” Tucker supplies.
“Jesus Christ, will you quit dictating this conversation to Hannah?” I grumble. “Bros before hos, dude.” “Call my girlfriend a ho one more time and you won’t have a bro.”
I nod in approval. “Damn. I should go into modeling.” “You photograph really well,” Garrett agrees in a serious voice. “And dude, your package looks huge.”
“I’ve known Logan a long time.” Lukov winks at the camera. “And by long time, I mean five whole minutes, but what is time, really?
Just as the door opens, I look intently at the screen and act like I’m still chatting with her mother. “—And she stuck her finger in my ass when she was blowing me, which was fucking incredible. I never thought I’d enjoy having anything up there, but—”
Lmfao
“Shut your mouth, woman.”
My husband
He leans in to kiss my neck—nope, the jerk doesn’t kiss it. He blows a loud raspberry that makes me shriek in delight.
My husband
“Logan talks about you all the time.” Grace glances at me. “You do?” “All the livelong day,” Garrett confirms, flashing his big, stupid smile.
“He also writes long, sweeping poems about you and recites them to us in the living room every night.”
“Because she told you she loves you.” “You stupid jackass,” Tucker adds with a grin.
“How do I fix this?” I ask, sighing. “Quick. Write her another poem,” Garrett suggests.
