Page 125 of The Protective Gryphen

Ian loved this man.

“Thank you.”

Gryphen was curious.

“Can we finish getting fitted now? Or shall we sit around half-naked a little longer.”

Ian stared right at Gryphen’s underwear, and smiled salaciously.

Oh, Gryphen knew what he was thinking, and it made the man’s dick harden.

He only had one thing to say.

“EVIL.”

“And now we know why the Scottish don’t wear underwear under their kilt,” Ian said, winking at him, and then disappearing.

Gryphen shook his head.

“Sorry about that,” Gryphen said. “My boyfriend is a bad influence on me,” he stated, meaning his now erection.

Aiden laughed.

“I’ve seen many things in the fitting rooms. When it’s someone from here, they are naked at the time.”

Gryphen lifted a brow.

“The full frontal? They rock out with the cock….”

“GRYPHEN!” Ian shouted over the wall as his laughter was heard.

Clearly, he couldn’t be left alone either.

He winked at Aiden, and stood there, ready to get this kilt on.

It was hard not to notice that Aiden was staring at one thing. Oh, not his dick.

His prosthetic.

“I lost it during a battle in a war,” he said, clearing it up in case the man was wondering.

Aiden sighed.

“Americans tend to be very pro war. You love killing more than any country in the world,” he stated, offhandedly.

And Gryphen didn’t have a comeback for that.

No one had ever accused him of being pro killing.

“Too many women and children have died by American bombs.”

That right there did one thing. It took him back to a ramshackle house in a desert. It took him to a place he tried not to ever go.

To the bodies.

To the little girls killed by the men in their tribe because they dared to want an education.

It took him back to him losing his leg, and bleeding-out on the floor as he watched those little girls die with his gun.

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