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Man, this weather is killing me. For about three nights now, I've been wanting to sit down and start my next chapter. I'm building it structurally, but this fucking humidity just saps all the energy out of me and I stare at the keyboard and can't even get up the wherewithal to start.

When will it ever end??
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Tasty
by Serai


Zeke Tyler has an absolutely luscious neck.

There’s a teenaged tenderness to his skin, hot with a slight, constant rime of sweat that makes him glow like honey. I can feel the scent rising up off his nape, sharp bristles of hacked-off hair clinging together in the warm salt dampness, and that shell of clammy moisture against my fingertips, heat underneath my nails. He smells like ocean wrack and warm bread, soft mouth twisting in a wicked grin that says he doesn't care which way it goes, so long as he ends up on top.

You’re mine now, Zekey boy.