"A full English breakfast, and a coffee. Make it black." While the teenager serving slumped off to prepare his order, Brandon rubbed the back of his neck roughly, a quiet yawn escaping him. After the events of the previous night, he was in no mood to fuck around, so when the person waiting in line behind him forgot his or her boundaries and moved a little too close for comfort - he could feel their hot breath against the back of his neck now - the American could be forgiven for his bristling reaction. "Do you mind backing off a little there? Just tryin' to order breakfast here, not lookin' for a fuckin' lapdance."














