Kavinsky snorted. He was playing up the bad attitude, in part because he was getting a kick out of it and, in part, because he wanted to see how hard he had to push before Jack did something about it. He'd already proven he was good at following commands. Now, he wanted to see where the patience ran out.

Still, he made a good show of stripping. It wasn't a tease, wasn't a dance. He peeled his clothes off as he stalked toward the bed, until he was naked in front of Jack's knees. Then, he sank to the floor and smirked up at him.

"Good, maĭstor?"