7. Jeffrey

"I'm starting to think you're stalking me." My voice was a little hoarse, as I'd just finished my fifteen-minute set at the club in Ridgefield. It was open mic night again. Though I'd been attending religiously, tonight was my first time actually performing.

It felt weird to see Mutt in his humanskin. But right too. He looked guilty, curled in on himself like he hadn't meant to get caught—a naughty puppy—and my heart did a weird flip-flop thing in my chest.

As much as I liked his furry form—and I did—there was just something about all that muscle and those damn blue eyes that made me weak.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" I asked, voice low and soft. Unable to help myself, I took him in. All six-foot-six of his gorgeous, wide form. He filled out his height in a lovely way, all long thick thighs, broad shoulders, and full pecs.

I'd never seen anything like Mutt's chest—and though it was new and foreign, it was exciting too. Everything about him was exciting. I'd played our nights we'd spent together with him in this form over and over in my head—convinced I had made up the raw chemistry that buzzed electric between us.

But…I hadn't.

Because all it took was one glance across the dance floor during my set tonight for my cock to perk up and all the hair on my body to stand on end. Like Mutt's heady gaze had a direct connection to my nerve endings, and just looking him in the eyes was enough to make heat pool low in my belly.

Still though, the fact that Mutt was here was more than a little…obvious, right?

I'd only been partially joking about the stalking thing—but his reaction had solidified the truth.

He really was following me. In dog form. In human form. All the fucking time.

You will be safe.

Mutt took his promise pretty fucking seriously. Almost obsessively so.

That should've freaked me out.

But it didn't.

I knew what it felt like when someone was going to hurt me. I'd been manipulated enough times that I could recognize the signs. And Mutt had…none of those. I didn't think he had a single manipulative bone in his entire body. That was part of what attracted me to him in the first place.

Mutt was a good person. Not very sneaky, but a good person all the same. I could tell he felt bad about lying to me, and that made all the difference.

In fact, right now, he looked like he was two seconds from bolting.

And I didn't want him to.

"You…" I reached out, looping my fingers around his wrist. My guitar hung loose in my other hand, easy as though it was a second limb. "Did you like the music?" I hadn't meant to ask that. I'd meant to ask him if he wanted to come home with me. Because that first time had been fire—and the second had felt like a balm on my weary soul. And I'd had a month of his fur, but not his dick, and I was kinda starved by this point—not that he knew that.

He made me feel like…me?

Not like Markus Prince. Not like Jeffrey Evans—Lydia's heir. But like me …the messed up mish-mash of a man who hadn't had solid footing since the day he sold his soul to the devil and traded his training wheels for a gun.

"I loved the music," Mutt blurted immediately, and his voice was so loud and jerky with excitement I couldn't help but believe him. "Your music. You. Your—voice. You are just! Wow!" He didn't have his ears and tail out—which was probably wise, as Ridgefield was not a sanctuary like Elmwood was. I kinda missed them, if I was being honest.

"Thank you." I flushed, heart thumping. And then because I missed his voice, and kinda desperately needed him to keep talking, I asked, "What was your favorite song?"

"All of them," Mutt blurted immediately again, blue eyes bright. "You are an angel ."

I balked, shifting awkwardly and dropping my hold on his wrist. "I dunno about that."

You're my angel, Jeffrey.

My precious little boy.

You're so good for your mommy, aren't you?

You love me so much.

You'll do what I ask of you, won't you? You won't embarrass me.

"No." Mutt grabbed my face.

I jolted, jerking out of my thoughts with a gasp like I'd just been dragged out of deep water.

"No sadness," he commanded, his palm big and scratchy and warm.

"O-okay," I managed, though weirdly enough…his words worked. It was a direct approach, yeah. But it was hard to be sad when a huge sexy man was grabbing you and demanding you be happy about it. "Yeah."

"You do not like the word angel ," he said simply, like it was that easy.

"I don't."

"What else?"

"I don't like compliments in general," I admitted, my skin crawling. Mutt nodded, though he didn't release me. He looked like his brain was breaking though, like he physically could not comprehend a world where he was not whispering sweet nothings—or in his case, sometimes yelling them—my way.

Maybe it was that honesty that made it different.

I wasn't sure.

Or maybe it was just him?

"It's fine though," I said, surprised to find that I meant it. "If you do it. It's fine."

For the same reason sex with him felt natural and good, when it didn't with anyone else anymore.

He was just…different.

Simple as that.

Mutt nodded, relaxing. His eyes danced and he leaned down, the hand on my face sliding low to gently cup my throat. He pressed into my personal space, his nose brushing mine. "If you were stuck in a tower I would save you," he said softly. "I would hear your voice, and I would chase it, no matter how far away you were. That is how beautiful it is."

My music had been my only source of true joy for as long as I could remember.

And his words meant…well, a lot to me.

A lot.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "How romantic," I teased, though I kinda meant it.

"I am romantic," Mutt proudly proclaimed. "I am romantic for you. Because you are so very precious. The most precious. The smartest, most lovely man in the whole world."

"Yeah, okay." I waved him off, ducking away from his hand even though that was the last thing I wanted to do. "How about a drink, Casanova?"

"My name is not Casanova," Mutt followed after me excitedly like I'd offered him my left kidney, not a shitty cocktail at a shittier bar. "It is Mutt."

"I know, baby," I snorted out a laugh, signaling the bartender with a grin and a head nod. I'd been here a couple times now, and he was starting to recognize me.

"I am not an infant," Mutt huffed as he slid into the seat beside me. He kicked a leg out, hooking his foot between my legs and pulling on the stool. An awful screech sound filled the half-empty bar as Mutt yanked me close enough the heat of our thighs bled together.

"Believe me, handsome," I hummed, shivering as he stared down at me, his brow scrunched. "I know."

The bartender winked at me as I leaned my guitar against my thigh, making sure it was secure. Mutt stared at it like it had personally offended him. Like he was the only thing that should be allowed to touch my thighs.

Fuck.

That was hot.

"The usual?" Bartender asked, his eyes dancing. His name tag read John. I made a point to remember it later.

"Yeah. Mocktail for me," I shrugged with a grin. "I dunno what he's having, but you better make it strong."

"I like strong," Mutt stared at my biceps.

"Me too," I agreed, licking my lips as I looked him over again. "A lot. Apparently."

When we got our drinks I spent way too long teasing Mutt by tying my cherry stem in knots. He chugged his whiskey in two long gulps, and I tried not to find that hot. Even though everything about him kinda was.

Thinking a dude was attractive was new to me—but it didn't bother me. It was just another thing I hadn't allowed myself to explore when I'd been living under Lydia's roof. I had no doubt Blair would freak out when I told him I was maybe, probably bisexual.

He'd probably throw me a party—with confetti canons or some shit.

The girl that was up for her set was singing a little too loud—and slightly off key—and Mutt kept flinching, but he didn't seem to notice he was doing it. So I decided to distract him. His gaze was trained on my lips, and when I stuck my tongue out and he saw the twisted stem that sat there taunting him, he whined, low .

The sound sent a shiver up my spine and heat pooling between my legs.

That was not the kind of sound a man made. It was animalistic, and needy—and primal.

"I want you to do that to my dick," Mutt said immediately. The bartender choked—as he'd been walking right by us when Mutt spoke—and then he strode twice as fast to get away. My heart fluttered and my cheeks flushed—but not because I was embarrassed. Mutt was just…yeah.

He was cute.

Dopey cute.

Unlike anyone I'd ever met.

I laughed. "That's the point, dude," I hummed, winking at him. "Why the fuck do you think I keep doing it?"

It felt weird…this confidence .

Not manufactured like it usually was—or a front, hiding what was beneath it. But genuine .

"That is very naughty." Mutt stared at my mouth, eyes wide.

I tied another stem. When I stuck my tongue out and waggled my eyebrows, heat burning beneath my skin, Mutt had to discreetly adjust himself. Well…discrete is a stretch. He full on—very obviously—placed that gorgeous as fuck, massive hand on his dick and squeezed—right out in the open where anybody could see.

And with the way he was looking at me—like he wanted to bend me over the bar and stick his cock up my ass—there was no denying who exactly had caused him to act so lewdly.

That was when I broke.

I was only human, after all.

And while I was still dealing with all the new shit in my life—including the fuckload of info my therapist had given me, and my were-dog—my dick still knew exactly what it wanted.

I was supposed to be trying new things, right? Things that made me happy. And while the dildo I'd received in the mail that morning was intriguing —and I fully intended to use it when Mutt-the-dog wasn't around—there was nothing quite like the real thing.

I'd never thought I'd be the kinda guy who thirsted after a throbbing, warm cock. Who thought about foreskin and imagined licking beneath it. Who wanted to twist and suck and slurp. Who wanted to be forced onto his knees and fucked raw.

But…

Apparently I was.

And sex with a real person was way better than masturbation.

At least…if tonight ended up half as good as the last time, who cared if my one-night stand became more than that?

My dick definitely didn't.

Didn't mean I had to be ready for a relationship, right? Or ready to face the fact that I didn't deserve a guy like Mutt. A guy who was pure, and honest. Who wore his emotions on his face as plainly as if they'd been written in Sharpie.

I was turbulent lies, dark twisting vines, and thorns.

But…I could still have sex. It wasn't like I'd hurt him either—so my past didn't matter. At least, not here. Not now. When the only thing I could think about was touching his cock and seeing if it felt as soft as it looked.

I licked my lips, dragging my gaze over Mutt's body. Across his broad shoulders, his biceps and the way they bulged with muscle, the hair that decorated his forearms, down to the hand that held his cock captive behind denim. He looked uncomfortable in clothes—like they didn't fit quite right, even though they did.

I could feel eyes on me—but now that I knew they were Mutt's I was able to force away the paranoia.

When I flicked my gaze up to his face, I groaned, unable to help myself. His nostrils were flaring, like he was scenting me and fuck…his eyes were black with lust. Fangs had popped out, filling his mouth like he was so turned on he hadn't been able to control his shift fully.

"Hey, Mutt?" I asked, voice low. "How would you like your dick sucked?"

Imaginations were great but reality was trickier.

By the time we arrived at my apartment—I'd given Mutt a ride in my truck—he'd sniffed me about a hundred times, his face shoved against my neck at every red light like he couldn't get enough of it.

Sex was on the horizon, and I knew that.

My dick did too—and it was happy as fuck, lemme tell you that much.

I didn't feel the trepidation I had earlier when I'd tried to go out and get laid. This was…smooth sailing. I, oddly enough, didn't have walls up with Mutt around. Even though I liked him, a lot. So you'd think I'd have more—on account of wanting him to like me back.

He was just…immune, I guess? To walls.

Maybe it was his honesty. The way he usually didn't lie to me. The way he was sweet and dopey—and so open with his affection that I never needed to guess if he liked me or not.

At first, I worried that when we got inside my apartment that I'd have to pretend to be surprised my dog was gone, but Mutt didn't ask—so I didn't say anything either.

"I'm gonna shower," I blurted, instead of going for his belt buckle as soon as we pushed through the front door like I'd planned.

I hated feeling the cling of sweat after a long day and sometimes I needed the heat to reset my mind. Plus, if I was going to ask him to put his fingers up my ass again, I kinda wanted to be squeaky clean.

"Do not use soap. I do not like soap," Mutt said happily, his tail thumping against the door as he crowded behind me. His breath tickled the back of my neck. I shivered as he leaned down, nosing at the fuzzy hair at my nape.

"I kinda need to use soap." My brow scrunched—but I was distracted.

Especially when he parted his lips and started mouthing at the skin he'd been nuzzling. I shuddered. My neck had always been one of the most sensitive parts of my body. In high school, when I'd fuck my way through parties, all it would take was a single kiss at my throat and I'd be hard enough to fuck for hours.

This was no different.

Maybe it was even better? Because I could feel the prickle of Mutt's stubble rubbing against my skin and fuuuuck, that was nice. Different, but nice.

"No soap." Mutt huffed against the back of my neck. The hot tickle of his breath made my knees weak. "I will buy you new soap. Better soap."

Why were we talking about soap?

Also, his dick was pressing into me. Perky and hard, pushing obscenely through the fabric of his jeans and against my lower back. He kept doing these little forward rolls of his hips, rubbing it against me—almost like he didn't realize what he was doing.

Hell, knowing Mutt, he probably didn't.

Probably just wanted to fuck me so bad he couldn't control it.

Oh god, that's sexy.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Um."

Get in the shower so you can get on that dick ASAP. The fuck are you waiting around for?

"It will be okay. You will see." Mutt grinned at me. He stayed pressed to the front door, watching me as I shuffled down the hallway in a daze, pretty sure I must've fallen and hit my head when I was restocking the magic books Avery had gotten in earlier that day.

His dick was a hard line in his pants, staring at me as it lay long and thick and trapped against his thigh.

Would he have a knot?

Fuck.

I should've researched that before inviting him over.

I knew werewolves were real.

Of course they were.

This was just…my first time trying to seduce one. When we'd hooked up the first time, I hadn't even gotten to see his dick—at least, not much of it. Sure, I'd seen the rosy pink head, and the fact he was uncut. But that was hardly enough. And also… huh . That was fucking unfair actually—when I thought about it. He'd been all up on my grill, shoving his fingers in me, and his mouth had been everywhere all at once—and I'd barely even gotten a peep show.

Never mind the fact I'd told him at the time that I wasn't ready for that.

Because now I was. Very ready, I mean.

And now my thoughts were spinning back to knots.

Like…how would that feel ? And what would one look like? And did all male wolves have them, or just alphas? And how big did they get—and did it hurt when they pushed in? And how long did they last—would it pulse? Would it force me open wide? Would it burn and ache, and make me sob into the mattress?

Would I feel full ?

Too full…or…just right?

Fuck.

I didn't have anyone to ask. Blair had only been with a vampire. And it wasn't like I could ask Avery. I doubted there was a book about how to bang shifters in the shop—and even if there was, Avery was my boss . Asking him about wolf penises would be totally inappropriate. Fucking sucked that my background didn't help in this situation either.

Every weekend for sixteen years, Lydia had forced her twisted teachings down my throat. She'd tortured me in the way only she knew how. Taught me how to kill, to stab, to maim where it counted. Made me read libraries worth of information about creatures she expected me to know how to murder—and yet…

I still had no idea whether or not I was about to touch a knot.

Though I suppose Lydia wasn't entirely to blame. At least not for this.

Werewolves were private people—and didn't write about their dicks.

They had always been tight-knit creatures. Their secrets were kept close. There were records of the basics, sure. Shape-shifting. Three possible forms. The clusters of communities that lived off-grid. The eye colors that showed rank. Blue for alphas, purple for omegas, gold for betas. Their main weaknesses were silver and wolfsbane—and fire.

I knew all of this.

Buuuut, that was about it.

That was as far as Lydia's mentorship had gotten me. Apparently, even with all of the Evans's years of monster hunting they'd never managed to gather more than a few sparse details. Maybe because—and I realized this belatedly—a lot of the werewolf population apparently preferred to live their lives as large fluffy were-dogs.

As I pushed into the bathroom and stripped off my clothes quickly, I lamented my life.

You'd think the fact that I was born in Elmwood would've helped things, considering it was supernatural central for the Northeast. But it hadn't. Probably because I had been a snot-nosed brat who had no business asking about genitals.

When our parents had broken the secret to us, I'd been the only kid who freaked the fuck out. Everyone just took it in stride. Vampires? Oh yeah, those bad boys were real. Werewolves too. Ghosts. Witches. Demons. All the creepy little things that kept nine-year-old me up at night were apparently hiding in plain sight.

I'd avoided them as covertly as I could.

Until I couldn't anymore.

Until Lydia's training forced the monsters under the bed in front of my bullets.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed away the memories as I pulled the shower door shut behind me and turned the water as hot as it would go. Naked and vulnerable, my skin crawled. At least…until I remembered Mutt was still here, guarding the front door.

He'd promised I'd be safe.

And I…believed him.

The water was blistering as it pelted against my back, the now-familiar numbness that had crept inside my mind settling back into place. It'd been easy to push away my metaphorical demons when Mutt was with me, but now that I was alone in the bathroom, memories—writhing, twisting, serpentine memories—crept to the surface.

My arousal dimmed.

Thoughts of knots and fucking drifted away as I tried not to fall into the trap my mind had laid for me. Focus on the water. Focus on Mutt. You're safe, you're fine, you're ? —

So alone.

So alone, alone, alone.

I shut my eyes and the world was dark. There were no monsters. There was no werewolf waiting to have his dick sucked—standing like a wet dream—in my stained front room.

I wasn't Markus, the kid who'd been kidnapped.

I wasn't Jeffrey, the chosen keeper of the Evans family legacy.

I was just…

I was…

Lonely, lonely, lonely.

Without thinking, I reached for the bar of soap and?—

"No soap," a familiar cheerful, rumbly voice echoed from behind me. I startled, slamming against the cool tile as I whipped around to face my intruder. The room was impossibly bright for a moment, blinding me before my eyes refocused.

"What the?—"

"You smelled lonely," Mutt said, shattering me open. My heart pounded, and the hot water burned and burned and burned . I smelled…lonely?

Could he actually smell emotions?

How—

Uncaring of my nudity or how invasive this was, Mutt yanked the shower door open and stuck his head inside the shower.

He stared at me.

His eyes were so fucking blue.

Blue as the ocean during the summer. Blue as my first car. Blue as I felt sometimes when the days were long and I was lost, lost, lost.

Mutt's warm chocolate-colored hair was unevenly cut and styled haphazardly, if it had even been styled at all. Which I doubted. He probably rolled out of bed and called it good. He was that kinda guy. I, on the other hand, spent at least half an hour every morning styling my hair so it looked effortless.

" Are you lonely?" Mutt asked, voice soft. I could see on his face that he already knew he was right. Which was just…unfair. Because apparently he could smell emotions, fucking fuck. That was…not cool.

But at the same time…it was kinda nice?

Meant he was perceptive—and as a person who struggled with honesty, it was nice to know someone would know my truths without me even having to say them.

Water droplets sprayed him but he didn't seem to mind. Didn't seem to notice, really, aside from blinking them away, his big blue eyes soft as he regarded me. Felt like he was looking right through me.

"I'm not lonely," I said automatically, because it was a habit to deny the things that made me hurt. My voice wobbled and I moved to cover my junk, not really in the mood to be ogled by someone right now. Mutt didn't notice my scars. Either that, or he didn't care.

His eyes were far more intelligent than they had any right to be. "Lie," he said, calling me out with no judgment or accusation in his tone at all. "Why do you lie?"

"What?"

It didn't escape me how bizarre all of this was.

Like a fever dream.

Here we were, getting pelted by hot water. A werewolf and a human. Two entirely different species. This wasn't a fairy tale, or a horror story. More like one of those absurd Reddit threads that pops up when you least expect it.

Help: I'm dating a werewolf. He's nosy and stalks me. And also apparently a human lie detector.

"How did you know?" I asked before he could answer my previous question.

"Know what?"

"That I lied?" I reached for the soap again, just to spite him, and Mutt growled, his fangs flashing. I put the soap down. His expression smoothed. Water droplets spilled down his cheeks, splattering against him. He blinked them away, like he was used to water hitting him in the face.

"Your heartbeat," he answered simply.

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay .

That made sense.

I'd just learned two new things about werewolves today—but not the one I wanted to know most.

Just ask him.

Just do it.

Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

"I…" I shook my head, still covering my junk with one hand, the other one clenching into a fist. "I would really appreciate some privacy right now." I still needed to clean my ass. That was non-negotiable. And I didn't really want Mutt watching me while I did it.

"But you are lonely," Mutt argued, attempting to shoulder his way further into the shower, despite the fact he was still clothed. It was odd. His clothes didn't suit him at all—almost like they were borrowed and not his own. Today's outfit was a ridiculous gray t-shirt with a wolf head on it. Very on the nose, if you asked me. Looked like the kinda thing you'd buy at a gas station while on a road trip.

I pushed the sliding door shut with my hip, struggling against it as Mutt huffed out an annoyed little breath. It pinched his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay." There was no point lying. I wheezed a little as he fought the door again. "But showers are not cuddle time."

"Any time is cuddle time," Mutt told me sagely. He fought back against me and I couldn't help but laugh. Mutt huffed again in annoyance. "Let me in."

"No."

"Why?" Mutt demanded, holding the frame in one hand, half of one of his big bare shoulders still inside along with his now soggy head. The triangular wolf ears on top of his head flattened unhappily.

Fuck.

My cheeks felt hot and I shivered, embarrassed and weirdly…turned on. Apparently fighting with him did it for me. Because my cock began to fill despite how awkward and uncomfortable I felt. I didn't know how to get him to go so I could do my business—so I just…decided to tell the truth.

Since apparently he could sense lies, anyway.

"Because I wanna wash my ass, dude." Ew. Did I really just say that? "Hole," I corrected myself, though that didn't feel much better.

"Why wouldn't you want me here for that?" Mutt narrowed his eyes at me. Then his gaze flickered to where my dick still lay out of sight. It twitched, and he licked his lips, like he could sense it somehow. Like he could smell it.

Oh fuck.

He probably could.

Aroused, annoyed, and irritated, I shivered.

"Did you forget that I have already been inside you?"

My nipples perked up, achy and pink as I licked my lips and stared back at him—my desire probably written all over my face. I shifted, uncomfortable—turned on, and more than a little horny.

Mutt looked hungry.

His eyes were blown black with lust, his delicious cock a greedy line where it lay trapped against his thigh. Fucking huge cock. Monstrous really. I hadn't remembered it being that big last time—but I'd also been distracted.

"Fuck," I shuddered, half of me offended, and the other half needy as hell. "I just…need five minutes. I'm showering, man."

"I could be showering too." Mutt's nostrils flared and he inhaled greedily, his tail wagging as he forced the rest of his upper body inside the shower stall.

"No," I shoved at his meaty shoulder, removing the hand I had covering my dick to do so. His grin was feral —like that was what he'd wanted all along. His eyes flashed—glowing for a second as my heart stuttered. "You can fucking wait."

"Okay," he conceded for once, not pushing back. He didn't leave though. He stayed halfway inside the shower, growing soggier with each passing second as he stared at me in all my freckled glory. His eyes slid down my heaving chest, over my hard nipples, to my belly button, and then my cock where it stood in a nest of copper curls.

My dick flexed, and Mutt rumbled, pleased.

"Good bitch," he said softly, and I jolted, heat coursing through my veins and lighting me up from the inside out.

Suddenly, it didn't matter if he had a knot or not.

My shame didn't matter.

Only his voice, and its husky rumble.

And my new name.

A name no one had ever called me—that should've been mean and degrading but wasn't. Because I knew Mutt didn't mean it that way. When he said "good bitch" it was because I was meant to lie down, ass up, and let him take me. Being a "good bitch" simply meant I was his.

I'd never been a self-conscious dude. Not with hookups or at the school gym, or anything public. Sure, I hid myself from Blair, but that was out of a sense of duty to protect him from the truth, and not because I was ashamed of my body and what I'd been through.

We both had demons.

We both had scars.

But I'd also never willingly let someone into the shower with me knowing they were about to watch as I cleaned the most private part of my body. I shuddered, hot all over—these delicious, wonderful hot flashes burning through me.

"If you really want me to leave," his eyes flickered with something like understanding. "I will sit by the door and stand guard."

He was giving me a choice.

I knew the right answer.

The answer I should pick.

The socially acceptable one.

But…if I'd wanted to date a normal dude, I wouldn't have taken a werewolf home. And though this was weird as hell, it was also…fuck. It was the hottest thing I'd ever done.

"I will give you time," Mutt generously promised. "But…."

"But?"

"If you need help…"

"Help…" I sucked in a breath. "Cleaning my ass?" Mutt grinned at me, this wide feral thing, his ears perking up as his tail smacked against the shower door. Thwap, thwap thwap.

"It is mine to care for," he hummed, eyeing me with liquid heat. "Isn't it? That is why you brought me here. You have been smelling of need, need, need."

I wasn't sure when I'd become his property—let alone my ass, but…fuck. It was really doing it for me. My cock jerked, a drop of precum sliding down the tip, trickling down the freckled skin as I sucked in a needy breath.

"I will guard the door," Mutt repeated. "You will be safe. I will not be angry if you do not choose the correct option."

The correct option.

He hadn't even realized what he'd said.

His words were innocent and yet…he was right.

What the fuck was I doing? I'd wanted to fuck, hadn't I? That's why I'd brought him home. I was supposed to be chasing happiness. What was happier than sex? Than getting touched when I so desperately ached to be touched.

Sure this was weird and embarrassing, but it was also…

So fucking sexy.

It took a lot of trust. Trust I'd never given another person. Trust I'd never even been tempted to offer to someone else.

And yet…here I was.

"Yeah, okay. You can stay."

It had been a long time since I wasn't lonely.

It had been a long time since I wasn't scared.

And I felt neither of those things as Mutt stepped into the shower, fully clothed, and in one swift movement, grabbed my cock and my throat and shoved me playfully into the wall.