
This weekend has been crazy. It’s nice to have something normal like Six Sunday to do today.
Strong hands gripped my arms and lifted me onto my feet. Suction stuck the bowl in place.
Or it did until someone slid a finger between the rim and my pants, tracing the ridge stitched down my rear. The scent of wet balsam filled my nose. I flinched when the bowl fell, shattering on my heels.
“It seems we have ourselves a voyeur,” Vaughn purred.
For more Six Sunday fun, check out the official website.


Hailey writes about questionable applications of otherwise perfectly good magic, the transformative power of love, the family you choose for yourself, and blowing stuff up. Not necessarily all at once. That could get messy.


