This one is from my Valentine's Short Razor's Cut. I've submitted it to Less Than Three Press, and I'll be giving a copy away at my #AwesomeTweetMommies' place, Babes in Boyland.
Razor's bandmates are harassing him about one of his recent escapades.
Torr snorted. “Foreplay? And who’s your lucky fuck of the day this time?”
“Yeah, why don’t you bring him back here to meet us?” Samson added. Razor flushed, with embarrassment and anger. Samson knew damn well he didn’t know who it was behind him in the alley. In fact, he could probably tell him better than Razor could guess. He probably saw the guy walking away when he came out to get him. He lifted his arm and studied his bare wrist. The pale pink lines from the riot cuffs was still visible.
“Okay, how about I bring him in at, let’s say, half past fuck off? Will that work for you guys, or do you need to check your schedules?”
Wow, Razor. Defensive much?
~xxx~
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