“What kind of fucking cocks?” he asks, his rough exterior not crumbling. “The large kind.” I motion with my hands, about a foot and a half long. “Like this big.” His brows rise. “That big?” We unconsciously draw closer, until our legs touch. “Oh yeah. They’re the best cocks. Always up to play in the morning.” I pause. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen this cock around, would you?” Ryke sweeps my body, warming me in the cold, and then he pulls my heart-shaped sunglasses halfway off my nose, eyes on my eyes. “Maybe check your fucking imagination. Because there are no cocks that size.” I feign
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