Baxter Stockman Novels & Stories

The hard etched edge of his adonis belt drew my focus to the tented front of his jeans. His thick fingers make slow work to unbuckle his belt, I barely blink my eyes and his jeans are around his ankles. He steps out of them and forward as a thick rod bobbed in front of me. My wolf presses forward, such a hussy as she preens and purrs. Fuck. Me. Tate was well endowed but holy Goddess, Zac was hashtag blessed. My face heats. “Like what you see?” I whip around at lightning speed, my wet locks whipping me in the face as I hear him step into the shower.

“I only saw a trunk. It’s locked, I do not know what was inside. Do you have a key?” “No, sir. I suppose we should get-” He silenced Jake with a wave of his hand, then produced a hammer from under the desk. “No need for that. I have a hammer we can use. Follow me.” Jake had some reservations about following a man that he didn’t know into a dark back lot, especially when said man was carrying a hammer. But there really was no choice. As they followed him through the rows of units, he introduced himself as Baxter, and explained that Dan and he had become friends over the years.