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"Jealous is not the word I would use," he says, thankful for the commlink. Shepard had tuned to a private channel after he arrived; the bass pounds beneath their feet, music so loud that they would have to shout to hear one another otherwise.
She is close enough for Thane to grab her around the waist, pulling her forward to stand between his legs. Shepard's drink sloshes in its glass at the sudden movement, but she doesn't resist. "What word would you use, then?" she asks, amused.
"Aroused, perhaps. Not jealous," he says, his hands trailing to her hips and finally down to her bare thighs.
Series
- Part 4 of may death find you alive