Chapter 4

Doug coughed as if to regain Beckett’s attention. As Beckett stared, Doug caught his lower lip between his teeth and ran a hand back inside his jacket. On his T-shirt, the word jerkcreased up, the fabric jerking to match. Beckett knew Doug was pinching and caressing his nipple under the shirt; he knew that glazed look of delight and mischief in Doug’s eyes.

“Do it,” Doug mouthed at Beckett, nodding down at the slogan on his chest. “You’re close enough.” He reached down for Beckett’s wrist and pulled it up against the front of his trousers.

Without any further encouragement, Beckett’s traitorous fingers closed around the swelling he found. Like he had no control over them. None at all.