Stone Butch

"I nibble my way to her ear and whisper, “I need this. I need you.”"

Another purple sunrise, I’ve seen too many to count. I used to think that this time of the morning held magic. The way the sun momentarily stays hidden behind the horizon, sending up her rays in a lavender ombre canopy...

The resort was on a small Caribbean island called High Beacon. It was exclusive, eye-wateringly expensive and beautiful. Expense was no object to me now because I was not, at that time, the impoverished Gala but, thanks to the Trinity,...