“It had been almost a week since the kid had dumped wine on him and had offered to pay for it. Maddock fingered the business card in his pocket. He’d called today to say he was coming by, but it was just for a drink. There was no way the kid could afford the cleaning bill on one of Maddock’s suits. Not if he worked in a place like this. Maybe he could take it out in trade. His overactive mind calculated how many fucks he could get for a four-thousand dollar suit. Damn, the kid would be t...ied to his bed for months—tight ass pinked and well-fucked. Maddock gave himself a shake, trying to clear the image before it could take up permanent residence in his brain. The morning after the wine incident—after his irritation and embarrassment had fled—Maddock remembered the kid’s smile. And the sincere horror at having drenched Maddock. If he’d been in a better mood, he might have laughed it off.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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