“You’re right.” He pauses for a beat. “Maybe I should.” I blink and suddenly Conor is yanking off his shirt. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Empathizing.” He kicks off his shoes. “Stop it,” I order. “No.” His socks go next. Then he drops his pants in the middle of my living room and pushes his boxers down his legs. “Conor, put your fucking pants back on.” And yet my eyes can’t pry themselves from his dick. It’s just so…there. Without another word, he strides out the front door.
LMAO
