I am shocked at how good Thatcher is with his nephew. He's so comfortable tossing that baby around. It's damn sexy, and I almost forget the man is a sleaze just looking for sex. When he tells me about how he feels like the molten glass is part of his mind, malleable and able to bring his imagination to solid form…well. It's easy to see why women drop their undies for him. He orders takeout, and we pig out on Indian food while he holds his end of the bargain. Thatcher Stag tells me how the ...