He wasn’t going to survive. He was going to die, right here, right now, and it would be perfect. This was perfect, beyond everything he’d dreamed of, everything he’d imagined. Jack was supple and searing beneath his hands, his body sculpted from Ethan’s dreams. And yet, this body he saw every day suddenly became new beneath him. Had Jack’s eyes always been that blue, gazing up at Ethan with so much love? His mouth, so perfect and alluring, whispering Ethan’s name endlessly, a babble of pleasure. Sweat clung to Jack’s heaving chest, flushed crimson.