((WARNING: May turn explicit.))Brice was still mooching. He was good at that. Smirking too. One of those was playing across his (biteable) lips at the moment, and the piercing, soul-scorching eyes were glittering as well, with the sinful ideas of angels. Because well, he was one, though the memory of that was a little fuzzy at the moment. He wanted
(
Read more... )