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    Summary

    “Well, if that’s the best plan we’ve got, I may as well sign up for life in a monastery now”, he joked.

    “No, no, none of this, Hollander. We’re going to get you laid. Even if I end up fucking you myself.” Ilya set down his empty mug and smiled devilishly.

    Shane’s laughter got stuck in his throat as the image of Ilya bending him over his couch popped up in his head. How his cross necklace moved with his thrusts, his hips bucking into him. But stop, no. This was just Ilya’s fucked up way of teasing him. Ilya Rozanov was as straight as a battering ram. And he had no actual interest in fucking his lonely and horny friend and teammate.

    Or when Shane can’t find a strong top to end his dry spell, his friend and fellow assistant captain Ilya volunteers to fuck him – although he’s straight. Presumably …

    Language:
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