![]() ![]() “Yes, ma’am.” He gathered a fresh tee and shorts and some flannel bottoms from the dresser then headed for the bathroom. He’d been up against his toughest rival in the final fight of the night. ![]() He’d won but that bastard always gave Flynn a run for his money, underlined the fact that he was thirty-three now, no longer invincible. They fought for glory and for fun, not for money, but that was no reason not to go hard each and every time. Flynn spent his days working construction, which wasn’t kind to his body either, and in the past couple years he’d come to feel it. He ached in ways he hadn’t before, even if his lust for the sport hadn’t cooled a jot. Something caught his eye as he set his clean clothes on the toilet tank-an old red towel slung over the shower curtain. Hunger rose inside him, exhaustion forgotten. Sure, this was the towel Laurel used for a day or two after she dyed her hair each month, and the one they f*cked on when she was on her period, but it was more than that. Laurel had teased Flynn about being a bull when it came to sex, and that towel was their inside joke. If he came home and found it hanging on the rod it was her way of taunting, Gore me. A red cape but also a green light, one that told Flynn when he exited the bathroom, it was on. The things he craved in the darkest, homeliest shadows of himself were his to take. WILLING VICTIM BY CARA MCKENNA PDF FULL. ![]()
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7/1/2023 04:15:24 pm
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