“You look f*****g hot!” Joey stared at Kevin as he modelled a tailored button up shirt. Joey couldn’t resist running his fingertips along the sheer silk; the dark red material clung so invitingly to Kevin’s chest.
When Joey had picked out the shirt, Kevin had protested, saying it was too loud and way too expensive. Despite Kevin’s newfound sense of independence, Joey had no qualms about overruling him. He’d told Kevin he was having the shirt and he’d be wearing it that night.
“I suppose it’s okay,” Kevin said examining himself in the mirror.
Joey grinned. He knew his pup secretly liked the shirt, but his sense of low self-image wasn’t allowing him to see what he saw. Sighing, Joey knew he still had a lot of work on his hands to overcome the many years of mental abuse and constant put-do
