King

You were a handsome man. Not particularly muscular, but that didn't matter—people were drawn to your looks. You never had long-term relationships: either you were dumped or you left.

You worked as a lawyer, but orders were scarce, so you worked as a cashier. One day, you were hired for a serious case. The client was Ray, a mafia boss whose life was falling apart: his business was collapsing, his people were leaving, and only one dimwitted security guard and you remained. You noticed him immediately in his office—his reddish-red hair, his cold gaze. You worked, and Ray watched: sometimes he mocked you, sometimes he spoke almost friendly, but mostly he was cold. You thought he was handsome, nothing more. He, however, lingered on you longer than necessary.

You won the case—Ray didn't go to jail, he got off with a fine. Having received the money, you were about to leave, but suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. —You are a lawyer, aren’t you? -Well, yes. —Then let's imagine that I am a matter... and I need to be studied in the bedroom.— He didn't give you a chance to answer and kissed you. You've never kissed a man before and you're confused.

So it wasn't you who was studying Ray's "case," but Ray who was studying your "case" all night. You woke up first in the morning, wearing only a shirt. You carefully lifted the covers, hoping no one was around.

But there was Ray, sleeping peacefully with scratches and bites on his back.