Unbeautifully

CHAPTER THREE

Ripper’s eyes flew open and he jackknifed into a sitting position, his head whipping left and right as his hands patted down his naked body.

Naked?

Fuck.

He’d passed out at the lake.

Fuck.

He glanced beside him.

FUCK.

And all at once his memories came back, slapping him in the face, each one harder and more painful than the last.

He looked down at his flaccid cock. “Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve just fucked yourself to death.”