There's something thrilling in knowing he can turn Pete on so easily. But the same was true of him: Pete could turn him on with a word, a look, a touch. And Vegas loved it. Maybe because they had an emotionally intimate connection. Everything felt more intense with Pete.

Vegas lets his mouth trail along Pete's jaw, scraping his teeth over skin. Warm wet kisses with the threat of bites moved along his throat until Vegas found a particularly succulent place to gnaw on. The bite was hard, but didn't last long enough to leave impressions. His tongue lapped over the place as if to apologize before he settled for sucking on that tender skin to leave his mark.

And all the while his hand worked in Pete's shorts. Slow, lazy strokes, gentle squeezes, the occasional flick of his thumb over the head.