“You know, seeing her like this,” Tristian says, head tilting, “I think I might get the appeal.” He and Rath have never understood my preference for sleepers. They used to give me shit for it in high school every time I’d tell them about watching her, whipping my dick out and leaving a little part of myself with her. Pathological, Tristian had called it. Now, he’s staring at her like he wants to climb between her legs. I step in front of him before he has a chance. This is mine.
