"That's what I was trying to do," Lynn groused but obediently stripped off his pajama pants and took the offered hand. He let Anderson lead him out of the bedroom into a wide hallway with a set of French doors at the end that opened onto an enormous deck with a large well, it looked like a Jacuzzi, but Anderson knew he and boiling water didn't really get along. "Are you trying to boil me?"
"I prefer my squid deep-fried, you know that. Try as I might, they wouldn't fill it with vegetable oil."
"Asshole," Lynn muttered against the side of Anderson's throat, plastering himself to Anderson's back, twining around him.
Anderson nudged him off. "Come on. It's filled with salt water." Lynn froze, and Anderson used the chance to haul him down the steps and into the