"Fuck," Kavinsky breathed. He tucked his fingers under his head, rather than drag Jack around. They both knew that Jack would like that and, hell, Kavinsky would like it too. But he was supposed to be being good. He had not slipped all the way from the role Jack wanted him in, some slutty boy he'd picked up and taken somewhere private. Isn't that what he was?

Just as softly, he said, "Don't tease. Please, Jack."