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Though I’d rather he go shirtless so I can get a front-row seat to his body and possibly sink my teeth into it. Figuratively, of course. Who the fuck am I kidding? It’s definitely literally.
“You’re still way younger than me.” “Way? It’s only three years.” “And a half.” “And a half. Jesus. We’re still in the same damn generation. You need to chill for a bit, my dude.”
He’s a fucking riddle of opposites, my Prince Charming. Hot and cold. A storm in the summer. A fucking beast in the form of a gentleman.
