floydsinshaw
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Rooster, the little devil, wet his lips, tongue moving languidly, brushing the edge of his mustache. “Who usually tops when you and Jake are together?”
He swallowed, heat flashing through his body with the memories that jumped to the forefront. “I know you know the answer to that.”
Rooster hummed, fingers brushing over Bob’s cheek, electrifyingly gentle and sensual. “Well. Do you want to see what he looks like when he's getting fucked my me?”
Series
- Part 1 of floydsinshaw
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"Oh. Shit.”
Jake pauses, the page in his book half-turned, attention fully turned on Bob. “What’s up.”
“I think Bradley went into subspace the other day.”
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can be read as a stand-alone
Series
- Part 2 of floydsinshaw
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The game had seemed too easy, which probably should’ve been a red flag. Call Bradley, hold a ten minute conversation as he drives home, and don’t let him know Jake’s finger fucking you.
“If you lose,” Jake had said, pausing to bite his lip for no good reason, “then I’m callin’ the shots next time.”
Series
- Part 3 of floydsinshaw