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“Let’s bring you back to the office so you can fill out more paperwork. I’ll also fill you in on my cactus collection. You wouldn’t think they could grow cacti in New York State, but they can, Hutch. They really can.”
I never really vibed with the expression to know something like the back of my hand. I knew my palm better. I once had a palm reader explain the meaning behind the creases and how it told my fortune. I forgot what she said, but I’m assuming it came true.
He went to his nightstand, where he produced fresh lube and condoms. It was a Christmas miracle!
“I’m taking my time with you,” I said in a low voice. “Patience is a virtue.” “Not always!” “Haste makes waste.” “Mother fucking goose,” he exclaimed as I slipped a finger inside his underwear.
“The point is, I was happy to help two old men find love.” Clint brushed a loving hand through his boyfriend’s hair. I hoped Amos and I were that into each other when we hit our forties.
