Jordan reached up and stroked his dark hair gently. It was so soft and thick when it was clean. “You must have gotten so used to sleeping with me that your body subconsciously didn’t consider me a threat.” Damiano didn’t exactly look reassured by that. “You can’t be here,” he bit off, even though he was leaning into the touch. “Why are you here?” “Do you want me to go?” Jordan said, feeling a rush of fondness mixed with amusement. It was like petting a wild, dangerous cat that leaned into his touch even as it bared its teeth at him menacingly.
