AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Race rolled his eyes. “Thank fuck. I’m about ready to drop.” He tugged his T-shirt over his head, and Butch had to admit, the guy had a great body. Next-to-no hair on him, not even a treasure trail. Then Race unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them to the floor before stepping out of them.
Butch knew he was staring at Race’s underwear, but they had to be the skimpiest briefs ever. Not only that, the front pouch seemed to have been designed for a long dick.
And yeah, Race waswell-endowed in that department.
Race cleared his throat. “You’re staring, dude.”
Butch jerked his head up. “I’ve worn nothing but boxer shorts since I persuaded my mom to stop buying me little boy underwear. You know the kind? Spiderman, spaceships, trains…”
Race guffawed. “Nowthattakes me back.” He cupped his package. “I like these. They’re a good fit.”
Butch could tell that much. Then he remembered. He’d gone commando.
Race noticed his hesitation. “Something wrong?”
“I usually sleep in my shorts,” he admitted. “But… I’m not wearin’ any.”
“Well then, tonight you sleep in the raw, Princess. It’s not a big deal ’cause you’ll be asleep, an’ so will I, in about ten seconds.”
“‘Princess’?” Butch gave him the finger, and Race cackled again. That did it. Butch removed his clothing in Olympic record-breaking speed, snaked himself between the sheets, and got comfy. “Damn, this feels good.”
Well, it would when the room stopped spinning.
Race slid his fingers under the waistband of his briefs and shimmied them over his hips, removing them. Butch averted his gaze, because he just knew if he didn’t, he’d be caught staring again.
Looking at Race’s dick would bewayworse than staring at his briefs.
Race climbed into the bed, and Butch realized he’d been right. An ocean of mattress separated them. He closed his eyes, then immediately snapped them open. It felt as though the bed was trying to eject him.
“Whoa. I haven’t drunk that much in a long time.”
Four years to be exact, since he’d stolen a bottle of whiskey from his dad’s liquor cabinet and drank the whole damn thing, only to throw it all back up a short time after.
“That’s a date, isn’t it?”
“Hmm?” Butch turned his head, and found Race pointing at the tattoo on his right arm. A trickle of ice dripped down his spine, and he told himself it was the AC.
“Roman numerals, right? I could never get my head around them.” Race frowned. “What is that? Your birthday?” He grinned. “No, wait. I got it. It’s your mom’s so you never forget it.”
He was half right.
“’S jus’ a date,” Butch mumbled. Except every trace of sleep had fled and he was wide awake.
Race seemed to be similarly afflicted. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “You were right to call a halt to the drinking. Four’s usually my limit, and we passed that an hour ago.” There was a pause. “You gonna tell me now what was goin’ on tonight? ’Causesomethingsure was.”
Butch would rather have crawled through glass than discuss his tattoo, so the change of subject was more than welcome. He rolled onto his side to gaze at Race. “I guess you could say I needed to get my mind off of something.”
“And? Did it work?”
Butch chuckled. “Nope. She’s still in there.”
Race grinned. “So I was right. Thiswasabout a girl.”
He nodded. “I’ve known her for a while. And today, she got married.”
“Obviously not to you. Were you close?”
Butch bit his lip. “Yeah, you could say that.”
