For a group of mercenaries who liked playing death games. “I doubt it. They probably think I went for a walk,” he added at Tristan’s odd look. Isaac cleared his throat and pointed. “That your bag?” Tristan sighed. “Yes, thank God.” He jogged ahead and bent over to pick up the faded green duffel. Isaac tried, and failed, to not look at his ass as he bent over. Christ, this guy looked tight. Made Isaac wonder what he did to keep his body looking like that. Probably played sports. Most normal guys his age did. A bright pair of flip-flops were not too far behind, and Tristan slipped his feet into them, too, before coming back. “The river must’ve taken my T-shirt, but that’s okay,” he said, digging into his bag and pulling out a button-down plaid. “You want me to walk you back to your camp?” he asked, shrugging into the shirt but not bothering with buttoning it up. He asked it like Isaac needed an escort or something. “Uh, no, I’m okay. Hey, where’re you heading?”
What do You think about Jacks, Marcy - The Hunter's Omega Mate [DeWitt's Pack 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (2013)?
