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the things he was expected to do and be, based almost entirely on who he had been when he left home at eighteen. There was no room for who he had become or who he wanted to be.
maybe those jerks had been on to something. Because in that moment, hell maybe even in every moment since she’d turned towards them at Sully’s, he was willing to punch his closest friend square in the face, throw her over his shoulder, take her back to his house, fuck her until his name was the only coherent thing she could manage and come inside her until he had nothing left to give.
Miguel could feel every vein and blood vessel in his dick, because he had a very clear mental picture of exactly what she could do with all of that. Him. And Knox.
he’d been jacking off to a mental image of Mary giving Knox a blow job.
“She's asking, Sergeant, if your dick gets hard when I call you sergeant? Sergeant.”
And only then did she realize the most important thing about Knox’s response to Santos’s question. He hadn’t said no.
as they stood in front of her, a hard, male wall that she wanted to climb. Naked.
“No honey, you’re not hearing me. I don’t care if he crawls under this table and starts sucking on your pussy. You’re not gonna come in this diner.”
I can make you grunt any time, Marine,” Knox replied around that cocky smile that Santos was very used to and could now admit made his dick hard as a fucking rock.
