He hesitated, looking into Colby’s eyes. The impact had been loud. Colby’d likely have bruises.
Colby’s lips curved in a smile: a welcome, a challenge, Will’s daring.
“Will Crawford,” Jason said, a dare right back, an acknowledgement of identity, a promise of imminent ravishing on his tongue; and Colby answered, “Captain Lanyon,” eyes blazing blue.
Jason shoved a hand into Will’s trousers, jerked them down and open. “Not unless you want to be my lord when you’re on your knees, Viscount Easterly.”
“Am I—” Colby moaned again as Jason moved the hand. In reality Jason wasn’t touching his d**k; their bodies shielded this from the cameras. Jason did have a hand in his pants, but only pressed against his thigh; Colby wasn’t hard. Jason wasn’t certain what this meant, other than that Colby was
