[Full Spice - Spice ☺️ ]
Chris's body was still humming with the aftershocks, his skin cooling in the suite's air, when the main door clicked open.
Chris's eyes flew open.
Dax stood in the doorway, still in his field gear, in black tactical pants, a dark shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the faint, sharp scent of night air and spiced rum clinging to him. His broad shoulders filled the frame. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, dark purple and intent, were fixed on Chris.
On Chris, sprawled naked and spent in the chair, his own release drying on his stomach, the purple toy discarded on the floor like evidence.
A slow, predatory smile touched Dax's lips.
"Proof received," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the quiet room.
Chris's heart slammed against his ribs. He didn't move, couldn't move, pinned by that gaze.
