"Mmhm." He shivers palpably at the flash of wet, hot to cool, turning to Zevran fully and letting his fingertips trace up under his shirt. Every angle and curve of him is sweet submission and readiness, cant of his head to bow of his shoulders to arch of his back. They've danced to this tune enough times before to have built a store of memories, and Jack's voice thrums with the pleasure of one in particular. "Dab hand with a lockpick, aren't you?