*Spatter

Splatter dreamstime.jpgIt’s easy to overlook it, but he’s handsome in an intense sort of way—those intelligent eyes, that firm jaw, and his well-toned body moving with such deadly precision underneath the perpetually casual ensembles.

He’s lethal and sexy—like a clandestine crocodile, dressed in discount clothing, playing itself off as an iguana for the benefit of the world around him.

I know who he is.

I know what he does.

And I want to him to notice me.

Desperately.

I need those strong hands on my body, grasping and stroking. Those laser beam eyes looking into the depths of my soul as he plunges into me, over and over, and I scream out his name.

—For the record, I mean fuck me, not kill me.

Of course, you never know…

 

*Because I’ve always had a thing for Michael C. Hall as Dexter.

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