Reviews for Darragha Foster

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“Truthfully, you crossed my mind a time or two.” Trib leaned against the shovel. “Always ends the same way.”

“How’s that?” Jack asked. He didn’t see it coming. The blow. Closed fist and precise.

Trib hauled off and punched him in the jaw.

Sharp, searing pain. The sound of head to dirt.

Cartoon stars and birdies circled his head.

His brain rattled around in his cranium, and he choked out blood.

Against his own internal admonitions to…stop. Halt. Not fight back…

Jack rallied to his feet and returned the blow.

Trib took it on the chin and stumbled backward onto the blackened ground. Jack’s gut twinged. He’d never hit someone he loved…someone he had once loved…before. “Now we’re even,” Jack said, extending his hand to help Trib up.

Trib took his hand. “Like hell.”

He pulled Jack forward, flipped him, and caught him in a leg wrestling maneuver. Jack fought against the constraint. Trib was heavier. More muscular. Not recovering from injury. And in control.

Jack felt himself go hard. Hard like he hadn’t been in years. Hard with need. Hard with want. “Let me go,” he said. He tried to wrench away from Trib. He smelled dirt and ash and sweat. And the strong aroma of rut. “Let me go—now.”

Trib squared his position and rammed his crotch against Jack’s butt. “You left me.”