[it has to look ridiculous, the utter, lit and shining rage in Beecher's eyes contrasted against his sudden, unwanted fish face. He remembers the last time he let someone push him around like this, treat him like a bitch. The very last time.
He tries to twist his head back enough to speak normally, biting out his words.] Fine. But you touch me like that again and next time I'm stabbing your cock.
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He tries to twist his head back enough to speak normally, biting out his words.] Fine. But you touch me like that again and next time I'm stabbing your cock.