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Summary
But the floorboard creaks as Whit leans forward. Colton can hear him breathing, like he’s sniffing him out. For one last split second he’s aware of the warm good darkness beneath the blanket, the sticky sweet smell of Julie’s cunt and sweat and shampoo, then there’s brightness and cold on Colton’s naked skinny ass as the blankets are whipped off the bed and Whit stands there peering down at him. Grinning, turning a cherry lozenge over and over against his teeth. He looks tall as God up there and broad as a bull, probably because he’s both.
“Well,” he huffs. “What have we here?”