Page 24 of Caged Hunger

He loved it and hated it both at the same time. Seeing the boy’s gorgeous ass bounce up and down had him painfully hard—knowing it was not his cock doing the fucking made him see red.

He didn’t claim to be mentally stable or understand the depths of his emotions.

By the time he had shot his load, his dick was all chafed and sore.

Yes, he was a pig and a bit of a stalker, but the boy was too fucking delicious not to shoot his nut all over his fucking chest.

One thing was certain: Basher had found his new favorite obsession.

So he began watching Cameron. Nothing creepy or anything. Just being extra aware of where the boy was and what he was doing. It was like observing a unicorn out in the wild. He loved watching the way Cameron moved, the way he laughed, even the way his forehead crinkled when he was concentrating too hard on a task or something.

He noted that every Monday and Wednesday, Cameron left early. He finished his shift around three, then left, looking all happy and cheery. Basher couldn’t help but wonder where he was going or who he was seeing.

Basher’s possessive brain considered taking off early so he could follow the mysterious twink and see what he was really up to. But a small voice inside his head told him that would be crossing too many lines. So, for now, he watched and observed, taking note of all the sweet and kind things he enjoyed seeing about the boy.

The way he always smiled when people told him stories.

The way he always held the door open whenever an elderly lady was walking out of the bar.

You would think that Cameron was made of sugar and sunshine, the way he was so sweet all the time.

“Here, I made you these.” Cameron’s voice shook Basher from his one-man “Cameron’s so sweet” inner montage.

Basher looked down at the plastic container filled with fudge.

“You made these?” he asked, reaching in and pulling one out to try.

Cameron nodded. “For you.”

“For me?” Basher asked, taking the container Cameron was shoving toward him.

No one had ever made him anything before. Come to think of it, other than the guys from the Death Cruisers MC, no one had ever given him so much as a birthday gift—although shots of tequila and Jäger could be considered questionable gifts by some.

“Yeah, I never see you eating any sweets, so I thought I’d make you some of my famous fudge and see if perhaps you’d make an exception for me?”

Basher popped the chocolate into his mouth and nearly came in his pants.

The chocolate was so sweet and decadent, with a mix of peanut butter and some white chocolate drizzled over top.

“Fuck, that shit is good,” Basher mumbled, reaching for a second and popping it into his mouth as well.

Realizing he was being rude, he held the container out to Cameron, offering him a piece. Cameron smiled and took a piece for himself.

“Wow. Thank you. No one has ever baked for me before. You’re really fucking good at it.”

Basher watched as Cameron’s face lit up with the compliment. The guy looked so fuckin’ cute—it was adorable.

“You keep making me treats like these, and I’m going to lose my six-pack,” Basher noted, taking a third piece and popping it into his mouth.

Jesus, the fudge was so sweet and smooth, and it tasted so good. There was something about the mixture of chocolate and peanut butter that gave it that extra little kick.

Normally, Basher wasn’t much of a sweets eater, but having just tasted Cameron’s baking, he might have to re-evaluate his opinions.

Cameron smirked, then pressed his fist against Basher’s hard stomach.

“Something tells me that you would look sexy as hell, even with a few love handles.”

Basher blushed.