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Summary
“Sometimes I don’t wear, uh, boxers. Or briefs.”
David’s eyes flash. “Excuse me, are you telling me you’re going commando in our store?”
Our store. Patrick tamps down a giddy smile. “Not commando.”
“Well then, what - oh.” David shimmies with delight, stalking closer and dancing his fingertips up Patrick’s arms to his shoulders. “Patrick Brewer, what are you wearing?”