If Ange was surprised to open the side door of his garage apartment and see Stacy standing there, squinting back at him in the sun, he didn’t show it. “Let me guess,” he joked. “Lamar finally kicked your ass to the curb. Get in here already, will you?”
Stacy pushed through the door into the dimly lit garage and shucked off the button-down shirt he wore as a jacket. His cap was tossed aside, the shirt dropped to the floor. One good look at his closed face and Ange wanted to know, “What’s up?”
Without bothering to respond, Stacy unbuckled his belt and pulled his t-shirt free from his pants. Suddenly he was hot, too hot, he was on fire burning from the inside out and his clothes were smoldering, ready to burst into flames. One thought raged through him, one need that had brought him clear a
