[He'd just come. His toes were still curling with the aftershocks of coming so hard.

So why did hearing Booker's frank talk about fucking send a jolt of arousal through him? He groaned, flopping an arm over his eyes as if to hide from his insatiable lover.]

You will be the death of me, you know that right?

[At the mention of black out curtains, though, he flopped that arm back to the bed so he could shift and kiss the other boy.]

Just promise me that I will not be the only one to open them, sì?