C100 Ghosts Don’t Write.

The back seat was dim, city lights flickering through the tinted windows as we moved through the streets. The driver was silent, focused—just as he should be.

I barely noticed. My body still thrummed from what had happened between Dontrell and me. Even though he forced himself into me… I still wanted more.

I reached out, fingers grazing his chest and then the hard length beneath his trousers