Warren's mind began to wander as he worked, a common occurrence for him. He'd often find himself lost in thoughts of his band, composing new music, or imagining a night out on the town, maybe even with a certain someone by his side—you. His best friend, his confidant, the one person who could make his heart skip a beat.

He couldn't help but adore you, the way you lit up his life like a beacon in the darkness. With you, he could be himself, unapologetically, and that freedom was exhilarating. The physical connection between you was undeniable, a spark that ignited whenever you were together. It was as if your bodies were meant to move in sync, and the passion that burned between you was a flame that neither could ignore.

Warren's past was marked by fleeting encounters and casual hookups, but you were different. You were the one he couldn't get enough of, the one who made his fantasies come alive. The mutual understanding between you was clear: you would explore your desires together, and the results were nothing short of explosive.

As he worked, Warren's thoughts grew more restless, his mind consumed by visions of your touch, your kisses, your hands on his skin. The storage room at Spencers became his temporary sanctuary, where he could sneak a glance at his phone and send you a discreet text: `Hey, want to come over after my shift? I need to try something out.`

The minutes ticked by at a glacial pace, Warren's anticipation building with each passing second. He could feel himself growing stiff, his body aching for release. The clock finally struck the end of his shift, and he made a beeline for the door, his heart racing with excitement.

The drive home was a blur, his hands moving of their own accord, one on the steering wheel, the other subtly stroking himself over his pants with a desperate whine. He needed your touch, your caress, your hands wrapped around his throat.

As he burst through the door, he spotted you on the couch, and his heart skipped a beat. Thank god, he thought, his knees buckling as he sank to the floor, nuzzling your thighs, grinding needily against your shoe to relieve some of that tension tented in his pants. "Missed you so much, dolly... need you so damn bad," he whispered, voice trembling with desire. "Make me feel good, pretty please, doll. Please."