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Summary
Pete turned his head self-consciously, not even sure why he had asked that. They had just completed a successful meeting, Vegas showing Saturn who was really the boss, and yet his ugly jealousy had decided to rear its head.
Pete couldn’t tear his gaze away for long though, two of Vegas’ fingers hooking under Pete’s chin bruisingly and forcing his head back towards Vegas. “Why would you ask me that?” Vegas asked again, his fingers still inside Pete, still scissoring him open and rubbing against his prostate, though it seemed as if it was an afterthought for Vegas instead of his main priority.
“No reason,” Pete mumbled. He wasn’t jealous. Really, he wasn’t. His main point of jealousy had always been Porsche and Pete knew that Vegas had never had sex with Porsche. Still. It tickled at him sometimes. Why it was rising in him now, he had no idea.
Vegas growled. “Answer me, pet,” he demanded.
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Vegas and Pete have a meeting to fix something Porsche fucked up (again) and then have a tryst in the car after it goes well. Pete, though, feels a bout of jealousy and insecurity that he secretly hopes Vegas can fuck out of him.