“And an abysmal shot with a pistol. But willing to learn.” Colby’s exhale carried warm across Jason’s chest. Jason’s whole body tingled. “Ready when you are, then.”
Ready. For a scene. Acting. Roles. Jason drew a breath, released it. Because Colby was doing that as well: leaning on the role, on Will’s pleasure, Will’s determined reach for happiness.
He let Stephen’s s*x-drowsy comfortable languor rise through his bones: that low pooling flush of satisfied desire, and the knowledge of being loved. The edge of danger lay not far off, as ever—sailing orders and Will’s thinness and cannon-gleam lurked—but the sharpness had been blunted by nimble hands and fierce kisses and the shuddering gasping fall into each other, into completion.
Jillian’s voice suggested in the background that not only
