“I’m a fucking rock star,” she repeats. “And you are my prize.” My mouth goes dry, my cock strains toward her, and when she slips one strap off her shoulder, my knees threaten to give out. I’ve seen her naked from head to toe more hours this week than I’ve spent reading, and the sight of her playing the seductress barely an hour after the Wonder Woman show is not only putting an unholy strain on my hard-on, it’s doing wonky things to that little muscle in my chest. The one that’s getting more and more attached to her by the minute.
