LOGINAct of Contrition The confessional smelled like old wood, candle wax, and the faint bitterness of incense that never fully left the fabric of the curtains. Father Elias Quinn sat on his side of the screen with his hands clasped tightly together. Evening Mass had ended an hour ago so the church was empty. The only light came from the small electric bulb above. He had told himself he would not wait. But he waited anyway. The outer curtain rustled. A tall shadow moved into the penitent’s side of the booth. Leather creaked as the man sat. For a moment there was only the sound of quiet breathing on the other side of the carved lattice. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” The voice was low, rough, and familiar in a way that made Elias’s stomach tighten. The forty four years old widower... Marcus Hale. The man who had started coming to evening Mass three months ago and had somehow never stopped. He always sat in the back pew and always left before Elias could speak to him.
Chapter 2 Kai was still in my lap when I finally lost the last of my patience. I grabbed the open edges of his robe and shoved it off his shoulders. It pooled around his elbows, trapping his arms for a second. He laughed lowly under his breath, truly pleased and began to roll his hips down against me like he already knew he’d won. “There he is,” he murmured. “I was starting to think the suit was permanently attached.” “Shut up.” I kissed him hard enough to bruise. Kai made a soft, hungry sound and kissed me back like he’d been starving for it. His mouth was hot, a little sweet from whatever he’d been drinking before I showed up. I shoved the robe the rest of the way off and got my hands on his bare back, dragging him closer until there was no space left between us. He pulled back just enough to speak against my lips. “You still haven’t answered me,” he said. “You want me to fuck you… or do you want to keep pretending you’re the one in control?” My cock throbbed at the bluntnes
Chapter 1 I was still on the phone when I opened the hotel door. “Hold on,” I said into the receiver, already irritated. “What do you mean there’s a birthday present in my room?” My best friend’s voice came back smug as hell. “Just open the door, Elias. And try not to be a stiff about it for once.” I pushed the door the rest of the way open and stopped cold. A guy was sitting on the edge of the bed. Young, mid-twenties at most. Dark blond hair still damp from a shower, with a white hotel robe hanging loosely off one shoulder. He looked up at me through long lashes, mouth already curved like he knew exactly why he was here. I ended the call without saying goodbye. He stood slowly. The robe slipped further open, showing a lean chest and the black waistband of briefs. “Happy birthday,” he said, voice soft but steady. “I’m your present.” I shut the door harder than necessary. “Who the fuck paid for this?” “Your friends. They said you work too much. Said a suit and tie guy like y
Chapter 1: Soft Target Kane Bishop had been hired to keep Starling Viktor alive, not to want him. That distinction had been clear on paper. It was less clear at 2:14 a.m in a penthouse that cost more than Kane’s first truck, while the man he was paid to protect stood barefoot on the kitchen island wearing nothing but an oversized tour T-shirt and a pair of black briefs, trying to open a bottle of champagne with a chef’s knife. “You’re going to lose a finger,” Kane said from the doorway. Star didn’t look up. His silver-blond hair was a mess from the show, still faintly damp with sweat at the temples. Eyeliner smeared just enough to look intentional. The T-shirt hung off one shoulder, exposing a collarbone Kane had watched a thousand hands reach for from the barricade and had never once allowed to be touched. “You’re supposed to be the strong, silent type,” Star said, still sawing at the foil. “Strong, silent types don’t nag.” “Strong, silent types also don’t let their prin
Chapter 1: Office Hours Dr. Adrian Holt did not give special treatment. That rule had survived fourteen years of teaching, three department chairs, and more than one student who thought charm could replace competent analysis of mid-century queer literature. His office on the fourth floor of the humanities building was a study in controlled order: long shelves of annotated first editions, a heavy oak desk that had outlived two renovations, and a single window that looked out onto the quad’s turning leaves. The door stayed open during office hours. The clock on the wall ticked with unforgiving sharpness. And the young man currently sprawled in the chair across from him was testing every boundary Adrian had ever drawn. 24 years old Cassian Rowe looked like he had been designed to be a bag of distraction. He had sharp-featured, with dark hair that always seemed one deliberate run of his fingers away from perfect, and a mouth that curved too easily into something between a smirk and a
Chapter 2: Full Course The unlabeled bottle emptied slowly between them. Sébastien did not speak much. He never had. Instead he cooked the way other men confessed... in small, exacting movements, in the quiet calibration of heat. He placed a single cast-iron pan on the flame and let it breathe until the air above it shimmered. River watched from the stool, chin propped on one hand, the earlier brightness in his face softened into something heavier and more focused. “You’re still assessing me,” River said. Sébastien did not deny it. He added a measured spoon of cultured butter. It sighed as it melted, releasing a smell that was almost sweet. “You eat like you are trying to memorize every detail.” “I am.” River’s voice had lost its public polish. “I want to remember the exact second you stop pretending this is only about food.” Sébastien’s hand paused on the handle of the pan. The kitchen fan continued its low, steady turn. Then he extinguished the flame and left the butter to coo
Chapter 6: No Going BackThe drive back from the cabin was quiet. The weekend had given them a taste of freedom, but reality waited for them like a storm on the horizon.By Monday afternoon, the pressure had become unbearable.Adrian sat in his office, staring at the latest message on his phone. Th
Chapter 5: The Cabin GetawayThe weekend came as a fragile lifeline.Professor Adrian had made the decision late on Thursday night after yet another threatening message from the unknown number. They couldn’t keep meeting on campus anymore. The risks had grown too high, the walls too thin. So he tol
Chapter 4: Dangerous GamesThe days after the revelation and message felt heavier, like the air itself was pressing down on them.Professor Adrian Vale stood at the front of the lecture hall on Thursday afternoon, delivering his notes on power dynamics with the same measured tone he had always used
Chapter 3: Cracks in the WallThe days that followed dragged on with a heavy kind of silence that wrapped around them both.Professor Adrian Vale moved through his lectures with the same calm authority he had always shown, but inside, something had fundamentally shifted, his thoughts kept drifting







