Chapter 3

I fumbled with the zipper on my jeans but

De’Andre reached out, caught one of my belt loops in two large

fingers, and pulled me a step or two closer. My pants were so

baggy, they slid off my hips without resistance when he tugged them

down. “I hate these things,” he muttered, dropping my jeans to the

ground. “Ass hanging down to your knees, can’t see what the hell

you’re working with. Step out and spin around, lemme get a good

look.”

Feeling foolish, I kicked the jeans aside and

moved back so he could check me out. My T-shirt covered the bulge

pounding in my briefs—nothing compared to De’Andre’s cock, but he

lifted the hem of my shirt and made an appreciative sound. When he

grabbed my dick through my briefs, I almost creamed myself. “Nice,”

he murmured. “Turn.”

As I did so, De’Andre let out a long, low

whistle. “Nicky, you been holdin’ out on me.” My face burned and I

ducked my head to hide the grin that threatened to split my face. I