I filled a notebook with filthy drawings of the straight jock next door. Then it disappears, and he shows up ready to make every fantasy a reality.
I have a secret. Inside my locked dorm, I fill a notebook with filthy comics and stories—all starring me and the gorgeous football player next door.
Six-foot-three. Two hundred thirty pounds. Tattooed, arrogant, and completely straight. Or so I think.
Then my notebook disappears.
Hundreds of drawings. Dozens of stories. Every dirty thing I’ve ever imagined Trey doing to me, laid out in embarrassing detail.
Then he shows up at my door with the notebook in one hand and a dangerous grin on his face. I expect laughter. Disgust. Maybe a fist.
Instead, Trey wants a taste.
