Chapter 47

For a split second, he simply—paused.

Then his brain caught up. This was Jude. Just Jude. Jude who had taken his shirt off without any expectation Anton would do the same, who knew now and still hadn’t bailed on the whole thing, who’d outright said he still fancied Anton, who’d said in the cinema that day to just push if—

Anton pushed Jude’s hand back down. “Not the binder,” he mumbled, and Jude simply hummed and kissed him again, his hand returning to stroking at the crook of Anton’s hip in a way that was both thrilling and nerve-wracking at the same time. It was dangerously low, and yet heavy and settled the way it had been on that first date in the cinema. Somehow, Anton knew it wasn’t moving anywhere else for a little while.

Yet…