“You’re really weird.” “No, gorgeous, I’m hard.” His hand covers mine, sliding it between us to where his sweatpants already leave little to the imagination. “Commando,” I whisper, rubbing my palm against the head. “Great minds think alike.” Before he’s finished speaking, I find myself twirled and bent over the island. The marble is cool under my palms, Whit’s hands hot on the cheeks of my ass, sliding the loose sweatpants down before his hands drag liquid fire up the back of my legs.
