Unspoken by Katica Locke

Hands clenched into fists, he starts to rise, but I grab him by the back of the shirt and shove him off balance, his pants tangled around his ankles. He falls against the stall wall and I twist one arm up behind his back, pinning him there. For a moment, the only sounds are the throbbing music and our ragged breathing.

"Well?" he says finally. "Go on then, kill me. Won't your furry friends be impressed--the big bad wolf caught a retired Huntsman in the toilet with his pants down."

"Shut up," I say, shoving him harder against the poorly painted wood. "I didn't think Huntsmen retired," I add, leaning against him as I dig into my pocket.

"Shows what you know," he says through his teeth. "Now what the fuck are you doing?"

I smirk to myself as I open the little tube of lubricant, warmed by my body heat and slick on my fingers.

"You," I say, reaching down and pushing a single slippery finger into his ass.

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