Dickhead (Wrong Side of the Tracks #3) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Biker, Dark, M-M Romance, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
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It was so pornographic. Like one of those stories that supposedly never happened to anyone, and yet here was Dex, offering sex to the owner of the shop where he attempted theft, and then reviewing the guy’s performance.

And while there hadn’t been that many details to the story, Hammer’s mind filled the gaps, laying bare the scene. If he’d been there, walking in on the couple, he’d watch, and once Red Bear unloaded inside Dex, he’d be there to step in and take over.

What would be the harm in—

His breath caught when he realized Dex’s cock was at a ninety degree angle from his body. The bastard was getting off on this!

His tentative fantasies about Dex never showcased his tool, and definitely didn’t feature it in the state of arousal, so being confronted with it and knowing that Dex would get it on with Hammer was a bit of a shock. He wasn’t ignorant to how sex between men worked, but it was a bit… too much.

“Okay, you’ve wasted enough water. Get out.”

Dex noticed that his dick was once more painting in the steam on the plexiglass and had enough brain power to cover himself with a pink loofah. “Sorry, it is a fond memory. Just give me a sec. To be fair, this is your fault, because you took my phone and left me in a cage with cameras. If I’m gonna end up a porn star, it’s gonna be on my terms, not because I’m jerking off in front of a tiger.”

Hammer didn’t want to hear about Dex doing anything to his dick. “No seconds. Come out,” he barked, losing his patience while the murky waters of questionable desire sucked him in.

"You shouldn't rush a guy to come out.” Dex snorted, but did as told, still hiding his dick under the loofah. When he walked out, the scent of jasmine became overwhelming in its pleasant sweetness. It combined with the smell of Dex’s damp hair, with the sight of his wet, tattooed body, and Hammer was close to losing his mind.

He was writing off the whole thing as Dex being as easy as the girls he liked, but there was no denying that an unexpected physical fascination has developed inside him and refused to let go.

There was only one thing he could do, so the cuff closed around Dex’s wrist. Ignoring the cry of protest, Hammer tugged Dex to the radiator and locked the other cuff on its pipe.

Dex was saying something, but by the time Hammer spotted the cockhead peeking out from behind the loofah, he had no more self-control left to deal with this. He headed for the door without another glance at the naked body offered to him.

“Hey! Not fair! Can I at least get my phone? I won’t message Frank or anything, I just wanted to let some people know I can’t make it!”

“For the last time, I will not give you your phone,” Hammer said, stepping away from the reach of Dex’s long, muscular arms. The sight of his naked body whirred around in Hammer’s head, with all its attractive parts tempting him to come back, but he needed a fucking breather. “Watch the laundry if you’re bored. I’ll be back when it’s done,” he said before fleeing the room like Baby had after she’d heard gun fire.

Chapter 9 – Dex

Two hours and forty four minutes was technically not that long, but it was a mind-numbing eternity when one had to wait and watch the time pass on a tiny electronic screen. When the program finished, but the machine switched on for a surprise ten-minute spin cycle at the end, Dex screamed out in frustration. Hammer didn’t come to his rescue.

Of course. Because Hammer lived to torment him. At least when stuck in a bathroom, Dex didn’t have to worry about the odor of urine in the bucket or cleaning up after jerking off. It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten hard when telling that story. He hardly (pun unintended) even noticed at first, because he’d been so into telling Hammer about the hot prepper. But then Hammer left him as if he were a puppy that peed on the carpet and needed time out.

He was now respectfully soft but couldn’t guarantee how long that would last if Hammer kept scorching him with those gray eyes and walked around shirtless.

What time was it? There were no windows to see the sky through, and it was driving him nuts, but out of other options, he groaned and rubbed his face, waiting.

The spin cycle finished, prompting the washing machine to give a piercing shriek. He was about to get that bit closer and switch the buzzer off with his foot when the door opened, and the object of his desires and anger stepped inside dressed in a T-shirt featuring Baby’s face. No more pec show then.



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