The ache in his backside was one thing, the scratches on his arms quite another. “You need to cut your nails,” Dean muttered. The implication warmed his face, made him glad of the sting from the antiseptic cream. Jay’s expression informed him his comment wasn’t lost, implied they might have s*x again.
“You don’t have to promise anything,” Jay said, voice soft.
“I’m not. I mean…I can’t. Not now.” Dean attempted a smile, half succeeded. “How do you expect me to think straight with all these injuries?” He ignored the unintentional pun.
Jay’s lips twitched. “You’re lucky.”
“How?”
“Sometimes I bite.”
Dean couldn’t help laughing. Standing up, he leaned forward, bending over Jay. “You have the face of an angel, but you’re a little devil.” Their lips touched. He allowed the kiss. A gentle ex
