Hi.
My name is Riley, and I just might be insane.
In a momentary introspection intended to clarify morals, Riley wanted to talk to himself. Was he really about to throw all his resolve out of the bathwater because of a little bit of soap and a lot of dragon?
Apparently, the answer was a resounding, vibrating yes.
Riley's brain was trying to pull up a calendar, a list of chores, and a mental image of kids who would probably enjoy cake pops, but his body was currently rewriting his entire internal code.
Every time Kael's hand moved, it felt like a brush of fire against silk. The dragon was being so clinical, so earnest in his duty, that it made the contact ten times more erotic than if he had been trying to be provocative.
"Kael," Riley tried again, his voice sounding like it had been dragged through gravel and honey. "I think... I think I can finish the rest."
