Atticus slipped on a pair of athletic shorts, stiffening when Jericho’s arms came around him from behind. “What are you doing?” Jericho chuckled. “Hugging you.” “Why?” Jericho kissed his shoulder, lips lingering as his hands splayed over his belly. “Because I like touching you. You smell good, and you’re warm.” Atticus did his best to relax. “Oh.”
