Chapter 4: Wasted CakeDavid pushed his fingers down his throat, felt the muscles in his abdomen contract, closed his eyes, and let it happen. The sweet, disgusting cake met the porcelain of the water closet with a splash. He heaved again. Acid burned in his throat. David hated throwing up—that was why he stayed away from disgusting cakes so he wouldn’t have to. The things you do for your lovers. Or future lovers.
He would eat whatever sickening cake or cookie-formed abomination Jett put in front of him, and then he would fantasise about how Jett would look if he didn’t eat things like that. The man had potential, great potential. He had quite a slender build—far from a brute—but there was still much that could go. A fabulous bone structure was hidden beneath a layer of fat. And those eyes
