Chris let out a low, exhausted groan at that, head tipping back against the cushion, every nerve still humming and far too sensitive for the calm authority in Dax's voice.
"Oh, this is absolutely your fault," he muttered. "Every single part of it. You leave, you provoke, you come back smelling like night and trouble, and then you say things like that as if I'm supposed to be reasonable about it."
Dax's answer was a quiet, warm laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest. He shifted closer and simply gathered Chris up, arms closing around him with effortless strength, pulling him against his body until there was no space left for indignation to breathe.
"I didn't hear you complain," he said mildly, amusement threaded through every word.
"That's because you're very distracting," Chris shot back, even as he melted into the hold, his forehead resting against Dax's shoulder. "It's a tactical disadvantage, you know. I could have been a perfectly well-behaved consort tonight."
