Oliver

Hamish spies Oliver from across the room–

 

He gave a glance at the hastily made up receiving line, where the man in question was standing by Oliver, his hand on his brother’s elbow. He patted it before walking over to stand in front of Claude, and Hamish caught Oliver’s eye, making him grin. Hell, they were both grinning.

My God, I snagged the most beautiful man on the planet.

He’d never get tired of admiring Oliver, the soft dark mahogany hair and how it felt being swept through his fingers, those full red lips as they made love to every inch of him, and those eyes—the way they stared up at him when Oliver was on his knees.

The thought made him blink, and he looked away before he had to reach down and adjust himself.

 

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Close up portrait of handsome young man with serious expression and hair blowing