A Glutton's Punishment
It’s not like he had to hear them. Over the centuries he’d learned any number of tricks to block out the myriad sounds his enhanced hearing made him aware of.
But for some reason, he hadn’t done it this time.
Instead he’d listened to Gunn and Fred, picturing every position, the way the sweat must have glistened on Fred’s sweet face. Not so sweet, though, was she? No, those moans and grunts and groans were anything but innocent.
Fred was a wild woman. Wanton. Hot.
Why hadn’t he stopped listening? He could have.
He was just a glutton for punishment.