But the next step he took toward Vic caused him to stumble as his lover moved back. “Matty, don’t.”
Matt pouted as he let his hands be pulled from Vic’s sweats. Vic laced his blunt fingers through Matt’s, giving them a gentle squeeze that only made Matt pout harder. “Oh, but hecan play with you.”
Vic gave Matt a strange look that would have frightened lesser men—facial tattoos framed a harsh glare that was further accentuated by the piercing in one cocked eyebrow—but Matt only frowned at his lover, wounded. “Don’t think I wasn’t watching you over there,” Matt muttered, narrowing his eyes at Doug. “I saw him flirting with you. Another few minutes and he’d be suggesting someplace a little more quiet—”
One large hand came up to cover Matt’s mouth, silencing him. To Doug, Vic apologized. “Ignore him. He’s drunk off his ass and doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying.”