Firm Pressure by JL MerrowA mini-sequel to Stroke to His Cox
first seen on Cryselle’s Bookshelf
Oh, God.
I should have bloody known. I mean seriously, I should have known.
It was hard enough—pun bloody well not intended—before me and Archie got together. But now? Every time I look at him, pumping away rhythmically in front of me as we cut through the water, his face screwed up with the effort as those muscular shoulders power the boat forward, all I can think of is, well, various other things getting screwed and pumping away rhythmically.
Look, it’s not my fault. I mean, have you seen Archie? He’s about six foot six, blond, with shoulders of granite and legs like tree trunks.
And he’s mine.
We got together after the May Bumps—that’s one of the Cambridge University inter-college boat
