Permission

Francisco's hands moved with tender confidence as they traced the curve of Hazel's waist. Their eyes were locked in an intense gaze, each breath they took syncing with the other's. Hazel's fingers danced down Francisco's chest, pausing at his belt.

"It's bursting," she whispered, her voice a soft caress.

Francisco's fingers continued their gentle exploration, his voice a husky murmur, "Shouldn't it?"

"Doesn't a gentleman have it?"

Hazel looked at him; his side face was so sharp, as well the jaw-line. Slowly her gaze moved from her lips to his apple bone, then his nipples, slowly on his abs.

Hazel tilted her head slightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

With a playful tug on his belt, Hazel led Francisco into the bathroom. The Thai glass door slid shut behind them.

Francisco's phone, abandoned on the dresser, vibrated incessantly.

At Andrew's party, Max checked his watch for the umpteenth time, irritation etched on his face. Francisco had assured him he would be late, but over th