Grayson's lips curved into a smile, "No one will ever know about that other than you."
Heat flooded his face, spreading down his neck and across his chest. Neville ducked his head, unable to meet those silver eyes.
"You can't just say things like that," he muttered.
"Why not? It's true."
"Because—" Neville struggled to find the words.
In the end, he just sighed and pressed his forehead against Grayson's shoulder.
"You're impossible."
Grayson chuckled as his hands settled on Neville's hips, his fingers busily rubbing against his skin under his oversized shirt, which had ridden up.
"I know," Grayson whispered softly against Neville's forehead and left a gentle kiss. "Now—"
Suddenly, Grayson's hands tightened on Neville's hips, and he changed their positions. Neville found himself on his knees again, but on the couch. Facing the back cushion, he could feel Grayson behind him.
"Wait—" Neville's protest was weak, breathless.
