by Adira August
He smoothed a non-existent wrinkle out of my shirt. “No, that will be some time when you aren’t dealing with horrifying serial killings. I think what you do, even in an office, feeds your monster.” He gestured vaguely at my gut. How does he know?
“You might like to deal with it while it’s smaller,” he said.
“Yeah. Yeah, I might … Not sure my back can take it, though,” I said, not kidding.
He shifted. He smiled gently, but still shifted before me. Power altered his stance, sharpened the planes of his face. His eyes colder than the ice he mastered.
“I don’t tell you how to investigate homicides. You don’t question how I give you what you need.”
My stomach dropped. My cock raised. He can see it.
“Unzip.”
Of course, I did.
He stepped in. “Under no circumstances, today, do you remove the shirt,” he said as his hand wrapped around my erection. I moaned. He smiled.
“You’re going to crave my company today, Hunter.” He stopped smiling. “Do not come.”
Camden Snow dropped to his knees.
Ah … fuck!
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