Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
M alcolm wiped at his mouth discreetly and then tugged on his rolled-up shirt sleeves. “Can you tell?”
Bull glanced at him as he met him at the front of the truck, holding out the same hand he’d just used to punch his landlord to hold Malcolm’s.
Balls tightening, Malcolm threaded their fingers together, and he decided he was possibly the dumbest man on Earth for showing up to his shitty brother’s engagement party rather than letting Bull suck him off in return.
Or, better yet, go get boxes so they could start packing up his apartment.
Because apparently, he was moving in with Bull.
After he’d caught his breath, with the taste of Bull’s come still on his tongue, he’d tried to say it wasn’t necessary, that they really hadn’t been seeing each other long enough to live together.
Which was bullshit, and Bull called him on it immediately, reminding him they’d practically been living together since they first started seeing each other.
He’d stopped trying to argue after that because there was no point. Bull was right. They both knew it, and moreover, Malcolm wanted to live with him. He didn’t want to keep running back to his apartment to grab things or feel like he was a guest with no say in certain decisions at Bull’s house.
Bull had tried to make him feel welcomed, including him in everything from what groceries to buy to the color of the new towels he’d recently ordered, and every step of the way, Malcolm had done his best to remember it wasn’t his place.
Since it was Bull paying for the groceries and the towels and everything else, it should be his decision.
But now they would be combining their lives—including their finances. He’d be able to truly contribute to the household necessities.
They wouldn’t just be seeing each other anymore; they’d be taking the next step to becoming each other’s family.
“Can I tell what?” Bull asked, leading the way across the street to Malcolm’s parents’ house.
It looked exactly the same as it had since he was a kid: baby blue siding, white shutters, petunias in the flower beds.
It always gave him a weird sense of déjà vu coming back there, like just stepping across the threshold sent him back in time to when he was a miserable kid or an angry teenager, just wanting to fit in with his own family.
But this time, he wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t have to stand there and take their silent, judgy looks and not-so-silent criticisms. He’d pay his respects, congratulate Cathy, mingle for a little while, and then they would leave.
“You know,” Malcolm said, gesturing toward his face.
Bull smirked at him. “Oh, can I tell that you were just sucking my dick twenty minutes ago like you were a well-paid whore?”
Malcolm slapped at his arm, his face flushing red.
That description made him more than a little proud though, considering just over a month ago, he’d been staring at Bull’s dick in the dark interior of his truck, not sure what the hell he was doing.
And now, not only did he crave having his boyfriend in his mouth as often as possible, but he liked to think he was getting pretty darn good at sucking it.
And apparently, Bull agreed.
“Yes, that,” Malcolm said, laughing.
“Oh, definitely. Your lips are still swollen, and there’s still come on your cheek. At least they probably won’t be able to see the back of your throat where I bruised it.”
Malcolm swiped frantically at his cheeks. “Oh god, are you serious?”
Bull pulled him to a stop a few feet from the front door, turning Malcolm to face him and cupping his chin.
It was one of his favorite things, when Bull held him in place like that, forcing him to meet his eyes and hear whatever truth he was about to speak or accept the kiss he was about to give.
It was possessive and dominant and a surefire way to get his engine running, even as he worried that everyone at his brother’s party was going to know what he’d just been doing.
“No, not really,” Bull said, his voice gentle. He looked between Malcolm’s eyes, studying him for a long moment. “But even if it was true, I doubt most of these assholes know what a well-fucked mouth looks like.”
Malcolm swayed toward him, his knees a little weak.
“But I do,” Bull continued, using his thumb to pull down Malcolm’s lower lip a little. “Because my boyfriend loves sucking me off, especially when I use his mouth however I like.”
He had to grab onto Bull’s arms to hold himself steady. “You’re such a dick,” he said breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in a couple of quick breaths. “I was already on edge from before, and now I’m about to burst out of these fucking pants.”
Bull chuckled, and Malcolm’s eyes flew open in astonishment. “Yeah, but you’re not worrying anymore.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes and glanced down as he tried to adjust himself to make it less obvious he was more than a little aroused at the moment.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Bull said and pulled him up the couple of steps to the cement stoop.
On the outside of his parents’ front door, there was a little sign taped just below the knocker.
The party’s out back. Please let yourself in and join us!
There were flowers all around the border of the card, making him wonder if his mom or Cathy had designed it.
Taking one more deep, fortifying breath, he pushed open the door and headed inside.
There was a formal dining room to his left and the living room to his right.
The house was quiet, as expected, so he made his way down the hallway, Bull right behind him, holding his hand firmly.
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, he could see the crowd of people in his parents’ backyard through the sliding glass door. He didn’t let himself pause or worry about what might happen, simply stepped over and jerked the door open.
There was music playing just over the sound of dozens of conversations.
A couple of young kids darted past—his cousin Sarah’s—and they shrieked with delight as they waved long wands and made enormous bubbles.
His cousin was not too far behind them, though she skidded to a stop when she noticed Malcolm and Bull.
“Hey! I didn’t know if you were going to make it,” she said warmly, coming right over and giving him a hug. He returned it, her orange, curly hair briefly suffocating him.
“I didn’t know you would be here at all,” he admitted as they separated.
She and her husband lived an hour and a half away, and as far as he knew, she and Evan had never been especially close.
She was about halfway between them in age.
Their moms were sisters, but even growing up, they hadn’t visited each other’s families that much.
He always figured his aunt and mom hadn’t been close either.
Whenever he had seen them, his aunt and uncle had always been exceptionally kind to him, almost like they’d noticed the shitty way his parents treated him and had gone out of their way to be nice.
She leaned in and whispered, “We wouldn’t have, except Drew’s family does a big family camping trip every year, and the site we’re all staying at is nearby, so my mom guilted me into coming.”
Malcolm pressed his lips together to stifle his laughter. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
“I’m glad I did too. We’ll have to catch up later.” She gave his arm a squeeze.
He glanced back at Bull, who nodded encouragingly, and then said, “I don’t know how long we’re going to stay, but if you’d like, while you’re in the area, you and your family could come by our place for dinner someday.”
Our place . It rolled off his tongue so naturally.
When he turned back to her, her eyes were huge as they took in Bull. Her surprise reminded him that no one at the party knew who Bull was, so for the first time since they’d started seeing each other, he actually had to introduce the man.
“Oh, sorry, this is my boyfriend, Bull. Bull, this is my cousin Sarah.”
“Nice to meet you,” Bull said, slipping his hand back into Malcolm’s.
“Boyfriend,” she repeated weakly, her eyes still glued on Bull. After a second, she seemed to shake herself out of it and turned back to him, pulling him into another, tighter hug. “Good for you, sweetie,” she said softly. “But dear lord, the size of him.”
Malcolm laughed so hard he snorted.
It took almost half an hour for them to finally get his parents alone. Every time they’d moved closer to them, his mom or dad would notice someone else they had to go talk to, and they’d skirt away.
Malcolm was pretty sure Bull had been about to throw one of the white folding chairs that surrounded half a dozen eight-foot-long tables in the yard right over the fence to get their attention when his parents went inside to grab some refills for the food.
Grabbing Bull’s hand, Malcolm excused them from a conversation with someone he was pretty sure Evan worked with—though the guy hadn’t actually said when he’d walked up and started talking to them—and hustled them across the crowded space, smiling at the couple of people who made eye contact with him.
As soon as they were in the kitchen, sliding the door closed behind them, his nerves bubbled up inside him, and he thought for a second he was going to be sick right there on the hardwood floor.
His mom glanced over at them and then went back to digging through the fridge. His dad was cutting up half of a watermelon and didn’t look up from what he was doing. Bull’s hand tightened around his, and he knew that he noticed.
“Mom, Dad, I wanted to introduce you to someone.”
“Oh?” his mom said, pulling out a large tub of what looked like potato salad and setting it on the island near where his dad worked.
“Yeah.” When neither of them stopped what they were doing, he lost his patience. “Can you both look at me, please?”
They sighed almost identically, like it was the most inconvenient thing in the world.
“What is it?” his dad said, while neither one even bothered to look at Bull.