For the first time in ten years, since Charlemagne, I was thinking with my little head. I’d forgotten how wonderful it could be. Or maybe it was just that I hadn’t allowed myself to remember.
A plan. I needed a plan.
I’d undo William Matheson’s pants. Yeah, that would work. Then I’d drop to my knees and swallow his cock, and give him a blow job that would cross his eyes and make him my slave for life….
But first I had to get my hands out of his pants.
Before I could do any of that, Wills got my hands out of his pants for me, and he shoved me away.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. What the fuck?
Spike had arrived on the scene.