Chapter 11
In bed. On a film set. Rehearsing in a stairwell. Jumping off a ship’s deck into unknown waters. Kissing Colby Kent.
“I do want to have sex with you,” Jason told him, still playing with that nipple. Colby squirmed against the bed, eyelashes fluttering, lips parted. “Colby? Still with me, baby?”
“Yes,” Colby breathed, entire body a portrait of rapture: framed by Jason’s bed, dark wood and forest-floor sheets. “Yes, please, please…Jason…”
Jason rapidly sorted through the random collection of supplies. Andy had evidently wanted to give them options, and also evidently had a favorable opinion of Jason’s dick size. But Colby hadn’t done this for a while. Relatively simple, then. For now.
He found a label that he recognized among the lube sample packets. That’d work: smooth and slippery and reliable. It pooled over his fingers like stars in water, gleaming and serene. His fingers against Colby’s skin left light like comets over those creamy thighs, reflecting lamplight.