“We need to go, Congo, or we’re gonna be late, and those bitches will have a hissy fit if I’m late,” Sparrow said, as he rushed into the kitchen, and grabbed the egg sandwich his mate had cooked for him.
Congo laughed, “I’m not the one that insisted we shower together. If I recall, I did mention we were gonna be late.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints when I had your d**k down my throat,” Sparrow said, with that saucy tone he knew Congo loved.
Congo grabbed him by the waist, and drew Sparrow close. “I will never complain when you do such wicked and wonderful things to my body, little bird, even if it means we will be late getting you to the club.”
“You know if you have things to do on the ranch, you can just open a portal and I can go alone,”
Sparrow suggested.
The look on Congo’s
