Chapter 3

“I can’t do it,” I confess, being honest.

“Suit yourself, Nolan. Thanks for nothing.”

I want to tell her not to be such a bitch with me, but Carter hangs up and cuts me off before I have the chance.

In truth, I can’t help what happens to me. The sexy bear decides to leave his imprint inside my memory and I grow hard while driving home. As I imagine him (burly chest, pretty-boy face, and muscles up the wazoo) between my temples, I begin to stroke myself off at the red light. While holding the steering wheel with my left hand, I unzip and jack off with my right. Elation surfaces on every pore of my body. Ripples of deep satisfaction tingle my hairy balls and cascade through my torso. I begin to huff and puff, perspire under my Brooks Brothers shirt, and—