the What you make me series
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What the actual fuck
James stood frozen at the door, his hand on the handle. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this.
What the fuck
His mind still couldn't wrap itself around what he was seeing. Morgan. Blindfolded. Sitting on the bed. Mostly naked. Looking completely unbothered, one leg swinging slightly side to side with the other one tucked underneath him.
What the fucking fuck
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Or; Dexter moonlights as an escort in between kills to satiate his urges, and James accidentally becomes his go-to client.
Series
- Part 1 of the What you make me series
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Summary
Dexter opened the fridge, eyes lingering on the mix of items as he moved them around—the orange juice with pulp that he'd bought, which James had turned his nose at. The brand of low fat butter that James preferred. His vanilla yogurt next to James' plain one.
The emotional implications of an integrated fridge.
Dexter scoffed, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck.
Stupid.
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Or; Sex was easy. This...not so much.
Series
- Part 2 of the What you make me series