IF HE DIDN’T GET HIS c**k out of his trousers soon Shayn would go mad. But he set his denya down gently on the edge of the bed and joined her, trailing his fingers along the edge of her shirt and asking with a smile if he could remove it. The room sweltered with heat, even if it had seemed pleasant when they’d first walked in.
Naomi helped him peel her top off and they dropped the slip of fabric beside the bed. Shayn would have torn the thing to shreds for daring to cover his denya while she was in his bed, but a distant, practical part of him remembered that their clothing supply was limited until they made it home.
Shayn groaned as Naomi laid back, displayed before him like a debauched offering. Her eyes were dark with l**t, heavy lidded and drunk on desire, her lips swollen from his k
