Hudson was holding him up against the wall and pawing at his shirt and Don Juan was thinking, to the extent that he was capable of thinking anything at all, please.... He reached a hand down and tugged his shirt up, not bothering with buttons, just bunching it up to get it out of the way of Hudson's hand. He tilted his head to give Hudson easier access to his neck, eyes closing so he could focus on the sensation of Dean's mouth. He pulled his undershirt out of the way so that Hudson's hand could slide in against his bare skin... and then had a sudden intrusive thought. Rowan Yaxley throwing the door open while Elfrieda was naked on the chaise, Don Juan knelt between her legs. A single moment which had derailed her life forever. If someone were to walk in on this it would be just as incriminating. Don Juan's legs wrapped around Hudson's waist; Hudson's tongue on his neck; clothes starting to come undone. Hudson would never recover from that. He'd lose his job, his parents would disown him, he'd be ostracized from society. Don Juan couldn't be responsible for that kind of destruction — not again.

"No," he blurted suddenly. He pushed his shirt back down and straightened his back, leaning against the wall rather than against Hudson. He tried to get back on his feet, but Hudson was holding onto one of his legs which made it a bit of a scramble. "No, no, no."

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