Sebastian lay sprawled over Jay as sweat cooled on their bare skin. There was a pleasantly sore spot on his neck where Jay had bitten him, sucking the mark into a livid bruise while riding him into the mattress. He scattered lazy kisses across Jay’s body, running lips and tongue along the planes of his chest and belly, starved for the shape and feel and taste of him after three weeks without.
Jay’s face was turned to the ceiling, but his fingertips roamed blindly across Sebastian’s back and shoulders. One hand lingered over Sebastian’s bicep, circling the fresh scar there—left behind by the bullet that had put him in hospital.
Sebastian brushed his lips across Jay’s sternum. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
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