Chapter 4

His fantasies were in overdrive as he ducked behind buildings, through alleyways, and along the usual haunts where midnight purse snatchers might be lurking on his way to the park that separated the bustling city from his apartment. The thing about being a virgin was that he could only imagine what someone else might feel like. Anyone, not Remy! Marlow wasn’t thinking about Remy or the way he’d cocked his hip in that kilt when he leaned against the wall.

Urg, everything had been so much easier before Marlow came into his powers. It had been easier in the beginning simply because of his age. He could ignore it then—for a time. But now, whenever he got hot, which was far too often, he had to do something about it or lose his mind.

Or get a hard-on while pressed up against his nemesis, apparently.

Once he got off tonight, he’d feel better, but while magic could enhance so much of the experience, it could never replace what he really craved.