Murphy
Not even the hard body pounding into him from behind managed to give him a reprieve from the constant barrage of images he’d been cursed with for the better half of a year. He’d bottomed before, hadn’t really enjoyed it, but he’d been desperately searching for anything to distract him. Men, drink, extreme sports, he’d even flirted with drugs, though thankfully that hadn’t taken.
Nothing worked. Maybe for a few moments, sure. But his treacherous mind soon dragged him back to the trial. The victims. The women and children who’d suffered. He’d thought he might be able to go back to his old life once the trial ended, but that had turned out to be a joke. He’d deferred his studies and fled the United States.
Here he was, halfway around the world with a gorgeous bronzed Aussie in his b
