The Red Zone - 1. "Kick-Off"

As Damien's eyelids fluttered open, he was jolted forward by the sudden stop of the bus, coming to a halt within the expansive plaza that led to the grand entrance of the luxurious resort. A quiet yawn escaped his perfectly formed, crimson lips, stretching as his arms slowly extended. Clad in a pristine white tank top emblazoned with the emblem of the resort, his flawless, lightly bronzed complexion gleamed beneath it. At age 20, standing 5 feet 7 inches, Damien epitomized youthful splendor with his tousled golden locks, piercing, luminous eyes, and an enchanting, radiant smile.

Despite being only 20 years old, Damien possessed exceptional wisdom, determination, and focus far surpassing his years. Additionally, he was openly gay, a beautiful aspect of his identity that he never compromised on. These qualities were the key to his remarkable success. Despite his youth, Damien quickly ascended the ranks at Eden's Edge, one of Barbados's most luxurious and exclusive resorts. Within just one year, he transitioned from a junior staff member to a senior manager overseeing the prestigious guest reception area. Remarkably, Damien also managed a significant portion of the staff, a duty that could easily have caused tension due to his age if not for the fact that he was universally adored by everyone at the resort. Damien's charisma and fearlessness had captivated the entire staff, and they held him in the highest regard, making any potential conflicts a non-issue.

"Hey, Blondie!" a male voice uttered from the front of the bus. From it emerged the most devilishly handsome man, standing at an impressive 6 feet tall. His broad, muscular shoulders hinted at strength underneath a poorly ironed uniform. His dark brown hair framed a strong, chiseled jawline, accentuated by a neatly trimmed beard. As he caught sight of Damien, a warm, confident smile spread across his face, drawing attention to his piercing gaze. "Did you get some rest?" the hunk asked, to which the blonde just shook his head disappointingly.

"I don't know how you manage this while I'm gone," Damien muttered as he stood up, grabbing his bag from the seat beside him.

"We don't, dude." The hunk replied, walking across the aisle to meet the boy and grabbing the bag off his hands.

"Hey, Ryan." Damien greeted, letting a soft grin push through. His eyes immediately scoured the hunk's polo shirt, noticing a stain just inches below the resort's logo. "Really?" The blonde commented disapprovingly.

"What?" Ryan questioned, glancing down. "Oh, shit." He stated. "See? This is why you can't take days off." The hunk remarked.

"Any worthy news?" Damien questioned.

"I finally fucked the brunette on 341," Ryan announced proudly.

"The one with the big tits?" Damien asked, trying not to denounce his smile as they stepped out of the bus, the hot, humid heat immediately piercing his soft skin. Ryan nodded with a ridiculously stretched grin.

"Dude, her pussy was worth the wait. But she sucks at giving head. Pun intended." Ryan said.

"I told you a million times: if you want good head, get a gay guy to suck your cock." Damien replied.

"Dude, nah." Ryan immediately countered, his straightness pushing through. "Although I'd make an exception if..." the hunk taunted.

"Not gonna happen, Ryan." Damien immediately cut off before they both broke into laughter. The hunk's bulky arm rose and swathed Damien's neck tenderly as they strolled past the front lobby into the stone walkway that led to the three giant pools that stretched over the massive deck facing the private beach area. Over it was an enormous blanket of crystal clear blue water, stretching beyond what the blonde's golden eyes could see. "Fuck, I really love this place," Damien whispered.

Eden's Edge was Damien's life and his world. There, he felt at home.

"Finally, you're back!" Another deep male voice with a heavy accent broke from behind the bar. Damien turned to find the most stunning ebony-skinned young man shaking a mixer. His muscular arms moved unhurriedly, and the long, stunning dreads of thick, black hair fell over the stud's massive shoulders.

"Hey, Camilo," Damien uttered, smiling as he walked over. The stud stretched his hand, bumping fists with Damien.

"Ryan's been crying like a fucking baby." He jested.

"Liar!" Ryan yelled from the other side of the nearest pool.

"You can't take days off, dude," Camilo stated.

"You straight dudes and your mommy issues." Damien razzed.

"Thank God he fucked the 341. I was about to kill myself, hearing him jack off under me every night." Camilo revealed.

Ryan, Camilo, and Damien shared the same dorm room. Damien slept on a separate bed, and the hunks shared a bunk bed. When Damien was promoted, the hotel management offered him a private room, but Damien declined. He and the boys had a strong bond, and despite the occasional annoyance of having to sleep through one or the other fucking some random chick, it was worth it. Damien loved them. And they worshiped Damien.

"Well, I caught you lighting one of those vanilla-scented candles Damien has stashed in his closet," Ryan revealed as he approached the bar, holding Damien's heavy bag on his shoulder.

"Mother fucker..." Camilo muttered between his teeth.

"Did you miss me that much?" Damien teased, watching Camilo's ashamed, bright, dark eyes squint at him. "Cute." The blonde stated, winking at the ebony hunk.

"Damien!" a high-pitched female voice suddenly sounded inside the lounge. They all turned to face a curly-haired, short, big-breasted young woman. She sported these vast glasses and looked annoyed by Damien's sight. "Mr. Schofield is asking for you," she announced, turning and walking away.

"I'll be right there, Karen," Damien replied with the fakest smile.

"She's so fucking annoying," Ryan mumbled.

"She's desperate for your job," Camilo added. Every time you take a break, she walks around like she owns the place." He declared, looking at Damien, who smiled at him.

"I'll be right back." The blonde announced, following the girl up the steps. He crossed the lounge and slid inside one of the elevators in the lobby, punching the button to one of the top floors. He walked across a carpeted hall and finally knocked on the door at the end of it, letting himself inside a large and grandiloquent office with a view of the pool area and the ocean. There was a large desk, and behind it, an older man in his late 40s with greasy hair, a pronounced gut, and a badly ironed shirt sat, puffing on a Cuban cigar.

"Damien! How was the vacation?" He asked with faked interest.

"Short," Damien replied as he slowly approached the window. "You wanted to see me?" He questioned, stopping near the glass, his golden eyes scanning the resort.

"Yeah, I did," the man said. "Bruce Levinson booked us for three weeks." He informed with an eerily uncommon excitement.

"Who?" Damien asked, turning around.

"I forgot you're not into sports. The NFL player. He's a massive star at the moment, and this is fucking huge for us. I want you on this. He's arriving at 2 pm by chopper," Schofield informed.

"Alone?" Damien asked.

"No, he's bringing his wife," Schofield replied. "No kids. Thank God!" The greasy man added.

"Can't you put Karen on it? I know she's dying too." Damien teased, knowing full well what the answer would be and what was about to happen.

"God, I missed you, you little shit. You're so fucking cute when you tease me like that..." Schofield mumbled, his nasty tongue licking his dried lips as his eyes stared at Damien's perfectly shaped ass pushing through his denim shorts.

"You know I could sue you for that, Mr. Schofield," Damien mocked, not even turning to address his boss.

"Show it to me," Schofield asked. "Please," his voice begged.

Damien sighed.

"Fine." He replied, pulling his shorts slightly down, exposing his butt crack.

"Jesus Christ, you're so fucking beautiful." The disgusting man muttered, pulling off his glasses and wiping the sweat off his forehead while his other hand caressed his groin area. "When are you going to let me fuck you?" He added.

"Never," Damien stated.

"Tease me..." Schofield whispered.

"Fine. I'll be at the dock at 1:55 pm." Damien uttered, finally turning around, his face in disgust as he realized Schofield was already stroking his 4-inch tiny dick strenuously. "Mr. Schofield..." he stated, rolling his eyes.

"At least stand there and let me look at you while I finish..." Schofield grunted as he furiously beat his meat. His dick was so small that the blonde beauty could barely see it from under the guy's hand.

But Damien had a good heart, so he politely smiled and slowly approached the desk. Just as he was about to lean in, Schofield unleashed a guttural whimper like a caged dog, snapping his head back and twitching as he came all over his pants.

"Fucking hell!" The man yelled as he panted, his chest moving up and down furiously as if he were about to have a heart attack. He finally raised his head, his eyes finding Damien leaning over him, holding a box of tissues. Schofield yanked a handful from the box.

"You should shower before they arrive." The blonde suggested delicately.

"Nah. It's fine," Schofield said, clumsily trying to clean his dark fabric with the tissues. He spread the white batter further down the pants, the bitter, bleach-scented smell making Damien scowl slightly.

"No. Really. You look like shit." Damien finally uttered before walking to the door and closing it behind him unceremoniously. "What a fucking idiot," he whispered as he dashed through the corridor, taking the lift down and finally crossing the pool area into the staff quarters.

A few minutes later, he was finally inside his room, his bag on his bed. He walked over, dragged the suitcase to the floor, and kicked it under the bed, finally letting his body fall over it. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, arms stretched to the side, about to close his eyes when a loud thump on the door snapped him out of his imminent slumber.

"Welcome back!" Ryan's voice uttered as he ran across the room and jumped into Damien's bed. Right behind him was Camilo, who followed suit.

Suddenly, the blonde was covered by both his friends' heavy bodies.

"Get off!" Damien yelled, annoyed.

"C'mon, little man. We thought this was what you wanted. Spitroasted like a proper bitch." Camilo taunted, holding Damien's legs as Ryan saddled the blonde's face, his groin inches from the boy's lips.

"You two are fucking disgusting!" Damien shrieked, trying to escape, his voice between outrage and laughter.

The three friends wrestled for several minutes until their bodies began to tire.

"You yield?" Camilo shouted.

"Fine!" Damien conceded, letting his body die down under them.

"Good! Cause I need to take a piss." The ebony stud announced, jumping off the bed and sprinting to their private toilet.

As the door shut, Damien felt Ryan's ass push against his chest, the hunk leaning back and uncovering the blonde's flushed face. As Damien opened his golden eyes to look up, he was met by Ryan's gaze, aimed straight down at him.

"What?" Damien questioned, squinting.

"Nothing," Ryan mumbled, eyes on the blonde's face. Then, he slapped it playfully. It wasn't harsh. In fact, it was exceptionally soft, making Damien squint. When he did, Ryan's face lit up. Damien's sight did light up a room.

Inside the bathroom, they could hear Camilo's piss finally hitting the toilet. Then suddenly, Damien felt Ryan's ass twitch slightly.

"Are you getting hard?" Damien asked, his eyes flaring teasingly. Ryan chuckled. "You're the horniest fucker, Ryan. You'll fuck a tree if it gives you any attention, Jesus Christ!" The blonde mocked before a brief silence took hold.

"Is it true?" Ryan asked, his smile turning less playful.

"What?" Damien questioned.

"That gays give the best blowjobs?" The hunk questioned. They lingered there, staring at each other before they both chuckled.

"Well...you want to put that theory to the test?" Damien teased, assuming Ryan would pull back. But surprisingly, the hunk didn't. He just sat on the blonde's chest and shrugged as if a part of him dared Damien. But Ryan knew his friend wasn't one to lose a bet. The blonde pulled his arms from under the hunk, skating his hands over Ryan's tanned legs, moving his fingers near the hunk's crotch.

Suddenly, Ryan's hands grabbed Damien's wrists, their arms wrestling slightly.

"Dude..." the hunk mumbled, almost incoherently, as he slowly unwound his grip on his friend's wrists.

"Relax." Damien counseled, smiling and sliding his hand over Ryan's shorts. Under them, he could feel at least 9 inches of hard meat pulsating eagerly. The blonde immediately grinned, realizing his suspicions were accurate: Ryan was hung.

"The fuck are you guys doing?" Camilo's voice questioned from the bathroom's doorway.

They had been so engaged they didn't even realize the ebony stud had walked out. Ryan and Damien turned their heads to face their friend before turning to each other, laughing hysterically. Ryan dove into Damien and kissed his forehead, slapping his face as he pulled away.

"I missed you, you piece of shit," Ryan uttered, his voice choking a bit.

"I can tell," Damien replied, eyes smirking at Ryan's crotch. The hunk pulled back and jumped off the bed.

"Are you showering?" Camilo asked as he fixed his unmade bed.

"I can't. I have to meet a guest. He's staying at the Cove." Damien informed nonchalantly.

"For real? Who?" Ryan questioned.

"Some NFL player...Bruce Levi...something," Damien mumbled before a chilling stillness took hold of their dorm. The two hunks froze as they gazed at Damien, eyes gaping in shock.

"Levinson? The Chief's star quarterback?!" Camilo questioned, taking one step forward.

"Yeah. That." Damien replied with an unbothered expression as he fixed his shoelaces.

"Dude, get the fuck out!?" Ryan yelled, moving in and pushing Camilo against the bunk bed. Damien lifted his eyes, shrugging. "That is so sick!" Ryan shouted, jumping slightly with childlike enthusiasm.

"Is he bringing the wife?" Camilo questioned, causing Ryan to chuckle.

"Yes," Damien asked, propelling the two straight studs to giggle complicitly.

"Fuck, she's so hot. Levinson is a lucky mother fucker." Camilo commented, slating his broad back against the wall as he crossed his arms. "She's a bonified trophy wife." He jested, causing Damien to chuckle.

"Dude, Levinson is like the g.o.a.t. of NFL right now," Ryan explained.

"He's a big shot. I get it." Damien noted, looking at the clock on their wall. "Shit, I'm late." He said, jumping off the bed.

"Dude, I want to meet him!" Ryan pleaded.

"Out of the question. You know the rules." Damien quickly countered.

"Damien, please!" Ryan yelled as he threw himself at the blonde's feet, his fingers tickling the boy's stomach, making him giggle. Then, the hunk discreetly moved up, his mouth close to Damien's ear, his warm breath making the boy's cock tingle slightly. "I'll let you suck my cock this time, I promise." Ryan taunted.

"You're a slut." Damien uttered, pushing Ryan's face away and making the hunk fall back.

"This is so unfair, dude. He is the best player in the world, and you get to meet him? You're the only guy I know with zero interest in sports." Ryan stated, sighing with disappointment.

"Camilo, run to the storage office. Tell them I want the Cove's minibar stacked with the best shit. And tell them to get the transfer speedboat ready." Damien directed.

"On it!" Camilo promptly replied, rushing out of the dorm.

"Ryan..." Damien called, pausing slightly as the hunk's eyes shivered with expectation. He squeezed his hand inside his pocket and took out a set of keys. "You can get them to the dock. Use the private lift," The blonde requested, trying not to smile at Ryan's joyous semblance. "And for fuck sake, try not to act like a 12-year-old." He added.

"I love you, man!" Ryan uttered, pulling Damien for a hug and slapping the blonde's perfect ass before fleeing out the door.

Damien stepped inside the bathroom, mended his luscious blonde hair with his fingers, and walked out the door. About twenty minutes later, as the clock hit 2 pm, he finally reached the dock, where a staff member waited inside a pearl white speedboat. He leaned against it, the slick boat rocketing slightly back and forth as he contemplated the view. And it wasn't long before he heard Ryan's excited voice in the background. Damien raised his head, catching the hunk as he walked down the wooden steps to the boat, carrying several bags and chatting with a tall, blonde, lip-filler, top model-type woman. She wore a black bathing suit, a silk robe to match, and a large sun hat, which she held with one of her hands, averting it from flying off her head, given the strong winds. Despite Ryan's chattering, she looked entertained by the hunk's conversation.

"Welcome to Eden's Edge, Mrs. Levinson." Damien greeted, extending his hand and smiling. As he did, the woman immediately focused on him and smiled.

"Is everyone in this resort good-looking?" She asked, pulling her sunglasses out and staring Damien up and down.

"Only the men, Mrs. Levinson." Damien jested, making her grin slightly.

"Smart answer," she said, extending her hand. Ryan, who had been tossing the bags inside the boat, ran towards her, held her hand, aiding her inside the ship. "Darling, hurry up," she called.

Damien turned around, and when he did, the blonde's heart skipped several beats, and for a few seconds, he lost his cool, which, for him, was an unfamiliar feeling. Coming down the stairs towards him was what could only be described as the hottest piece of man he had ever seen—6.2 feet of man flesh, a towering figure. Bulky, muscular shoulders and chest descending into a v-shaped stomach, expanding muscular thighs housing the most massive crotch in its center. His caffs were massive, showcasing his highly sexy, masculine legs. He wore sunglasses, but the perfectly trimmed beard underneath framed his chiseled face effortlessly. His long, luscious dark brown hair was closely tied in a bun, with a few locs falling over his face most sensually. The blonde could feel the deck shaking under his feet as Levinson's heavy body approached him.

"Hey. Beautiful place you guys have here!" the sexy hunk said, removing his glasses and finally exposing his beautifully bewitching green eyes, which seemed to radiate brighter as the sun hit them.

"Well, you haven't seen the Cove yet, Sir," Damien reacted, trying desperately to prevent his voice from shaking as he felt the guy's perfume wash through him. It was slightly tinged with a sweaty musk. "Welcome to Eden's Edge. I'm Damien," the blonde greeted, extending his hand.

"Bruce," the hunk replied, shaking Damien's hand. His skin was rough, and his touch was intense. He smiled and stepped inside the speedboat, his weight making it dip slightly underwater.

By now, Ryan had jumped off and was nearing Damien.

"Thank you for the picture, Mr. Levinson!" Ryan uttered, raising his hand. Damien sneered at him discretely.

"You're welcome, man!" Bruce replied, slanting against the back of the boat. His wife followed him and leaned her ass right into the hunk's crotch. From the corner of his eye, Damien could see Bruce's hand skating along the side of her leg, his massive hand squeezing her ass.

"I'll see you later?" Ryan questioned, looking into Damien's eyes. But the blonde attention was latched on the boat.

"Sure," Damien replied, jumping inside with ease. He signaled the driver to depart. The ship rocketed slightly, turning right before the boat's motor roared, and they started pulling away from the dock.

"So, what's so special about the Cove?" Bruce shouted from the back, his voice trying to fly over the noise as the speedboat flew over the waves. Damien turned and smiled, and Bruce's eyes seemed to linger on him momentarily.

"The Cove is not just a part of Eden's Edge. It's an entirely independent island, Sir. 1.86 miles of sand and palm trees, a glass residence with a panoramic view of the entire area. Nothing to do there but rest and take in the best of what nature offers." Damien proudly announced. "It's as close as you're ever gonna get to heaven on earth." He added, smiling.

"Sounds boring," the wife muttered.

"Sounds perfect," Bruce stated, his attention on Damien's words, his eyes locked on the blonde, whose hair flowed beautifully with the ocean's breeze.

A few minutes later, they were docking at the Cove, and the driver anchored the boat. Damien and the Levinsons hopped off and started climbing a steep flight of wooden stairs leading into a beautiful two-floor house made entirely of glass. There were absolutely no closed walls. Its privacy was purposely avoided. There was no need for it; there was nothing and no one to spy on them but the ocean surrounding them.

"They'll bring your luggage in a few minutes," Damien informed as he slipped the card on the door and stepped inside the costly suite. Inside is a massive living room equipped with everything one needs and desires. Sumptuous sofas and a built-in cinema-sized screen on the wall. On the right were stairs to the upper floor with a private chamber and a massive balcony around the entire room. "Rather than showing you around, I suggest you get acquainted with the place. You'll soon find yourselves feeling at home." Damien courteously suggested. As he did, the wife's phone rang.

"Finally!" she voiced, pushing herself away from Bruce and immediately walking to the large deck facing the back of the house on the other side of the living room. Her voice quickly faded in the distance.

Damien's eyes followed her for a bit before finally stopping on Bruce.

"She won't be coming back anytime soon," Bruce stated, winking. Damien felt his legs falter slightly. There was a gentle calmness to the NFL star, a soothing energy Damien didn't expect, and that felt alluring. "I'll head up to the room. I'm jetlagged as fuck." He announced.

"Of course," Damien replied immediately. "If there's anything you need, our staff is available 24/7. Just call the reception, Sir." He added, turning around and sprinting down the steps towards the boat.

But about halfway there, Damien's eyes screeched as he slid his hand inside his pocket. He had forgotten to leave the key card inside the house. "Idiot!" he uttered, immediately turning back and rushing back up the wooden stairs. As he neared the still-opened door, he halted, gently peeking inside. "Mr. Levinson?" he called, pushing the door open.

No one was inside the living room, but he could still hear Levinson's wife's voice coming from the deck as she chatted on the phone, the back of her colossal hat visible as she sat on one of the sunbeds. He walked up the steps to the first floor, already hearing the sound of the shower running. As he reached the doorway, Damien paused, thinking. If he was quick enough, he might be able to drop the key on Levinson's nightstand and get the fuck out of dodge. So he took a deep breath and tip-toed inside the room as fast as he could, the sound of his shoes muffled by the comfortable carpeted floor. But halfway through, the shower paused, making the blonde freeze on the spot, his eyes closed with mortification. He could hear Levinson's heavy steps coming out of the bathroom, and as he opened his eyes, they shivered.

Bruce was standing there, naked, steam oozing out of his body, a white towel on his hand, his body soaking wet. And dangling between his legs, a massive, 9-inch soft uncut cock.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Bruce stated. Despite the awkward and somewhat bizarre scenario they found themselves in, he seemed relaxed.

"I'm so sorry, Sir. I forgot to leave you your card key." Damien stated calmly, resisting the urge to look down at the massive cock dangling between Levinson's fuzzy legs. He stretched his hand.

"Just put it on the table," Bruce ordered, taking the towel to his soaked hair. As he did, the bottom part of it forced his heavy cock to lift slightly. Damien walked over to the nightstand and placed the card on it.

He took a deep breath, his usual confidence finally returning to his body, and turned to face the hunk.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak in like this, Sir." Damien admitted.

"Call me Bruce," Levinson corrected. "It's fine. Guys walk around the locker rooms like this all the time," he jested.

"Well, I wouldn't know. I'm not really into sports." Damien replied.

Bruce stared at him briefly, walking to the large mirror before the bed. Damien turned to follow him, spellbound by the hunk's muscular ass moving as he walked. Inside his tight shorts, his pink shaft was bursting through the seams. Bruce rolled the towel around his waist, locked it, and slid his fingers underneath his hair, pulling it back.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" Bruce questioned, staring at Damien through the mirror.

"They had to brief me before you arrived," Damien revealed bluntly. "Sorry." He added, shrugging. Bruce chuckled.

"Don't be," the stud said, turning around and crossing his arms, making his biceps look even bulkier. "It's refreshing to be around someone who doesn't care about what I do," Bruce stated with a certain depth of tone.

"I didn't mean..." Damien apologized.

"I know what you meant," the hunk soothed. "How old are you?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his heavy structure making the wood beneath the carpet squeak.

"Twenty," Damien answered, matching the hunk's energy, taking one step forward.

"And you're already senior manager?" Bruce asked. Damien nodded with a smirk on his lips. "You must be very good at your job," he commented, his emerald eyes descending into the boy's nose and chin, finally locking on his red, plump lips.

"I'm driven. And I know what I want." Damien responded with confidence.

"I see. And do you usually get what you want?" Bruce asked, his tongue gliding discretely along his lips, coating his thick beard with a moist layer. Damien smiled and nodded slowly, his cock pulsating between his legs. Bruce's eyes shot up, locking on Damien's, and he chuckled, exposing his attractive smile for the first time. "You're kinda cocky, kid." He jested.

"You have no idea." Damien teased, surprised by how fast and effortlessly the words flew out of his mouth. "Anyway, I should go." He backtracked as he watched Bruce's smile wane. Even so, he could see the hunk's eyes drilling inside him. They weren't insulted. They were curious.

"You should." The hunk muttered, walking over to his nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed. Damien turned and motioned to leave.

"What did you say your name was?" Bruce's voice questioned, stopping the boy in his tracks.

"Damien." The blonde replied, still facing the door.

"I'll be sure to remember that," the hunk's voice uttered from the bed. Later, Damien," he added. Damien smiled and turned back in time to watch Bruce pull off his towel and slide his massive, brawny body inside the white silk bedsheets, disappearing under them.

"Later, Bruce," Damien replied, slowly closing the lights and tapping the remote on the electric shutters, submerging the room in a soothing darkness.

He returned to the dock, and they drove back to the main pier. Fifteen minutes later, he was hopping off the speedboat, surprised by Schofield's small figure racing down the dock steps in his direction.

"What the fuck did you do?!" The greasy manager questioned.

"What do you mean? Damien asked, suddenly reminded of his brave yet reckless comment.

"Levinson called the reception two minutes ago requesting staff assistance first thing tomorrow morning at the Cove." Schofield spewed, pacing around Damien like a vulture before walking to the edge of the dock.

"Well, Ryan and Karen will be there with the crew as usual," Damien explained.

"That's what I told him. But he said he doesn't want the usual crew. He specifically asked for you." Schofield muttered, the words lurching through his teeth with strain.

"He did?" Damien asked, struggling to cage his smirk.

"Yeah. So whatever the fuck you did, keep doing it." Schofield informed, crossing his arms behind his back and walking back up the stairs into the resort.

Damien turned to the water and leaned against the pilings, his golden eyes glittering under the bright sunlight as he gazed at the Cove in the distance.

His mind whispered to him what his heart had already felt the moment he left that room.

That it was about time he got into sports.

(To be continued...)