The door slides open. His voice is low and dangerous: “Jed.”
I freeze. There’s no anger in his eyes—only hunger.
“I saw you,” he says, stepping closer. The air between us becomes difficult to breathe. “And now I want to know why.”
My pulse roars. This isn’t about punishment. It’s something darker, something neither of us should want but do anyway.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me what you imagined,” he whispers. “And maybe I’ll let you live it.”
I should run. But the way he looks at me—as if I’m finally worth something—makes me stay.
This isn’t discipline.
It’s how much I want him.
Steamy MM stories, baby! Michael Levi can’t go a day without sitting down and putting into words all the dirty scenes that sprout up in his mind. His collection is diverse, but it’s gay love only. And if you are looking for something free, check out his mailing list. Warning: it can be extra spicy.
When Michael Levi isn’t writing, he’s chilling out by a lake close to his house. Nothing better than to kick back with a martini in his hand as he daydreams his next explicit scenes.