“Something wrong, Lyle?” Henry asks, using his last name, his eyes never leaving mine. “Nothing. I just thought I was going to get a half-decent show,” Ronan mocks, though I can tell from the huskiness in his voice that he’s thoroughly aroused by every second of this. Henry clenches his teeth so hard, I hear a cracking sound. “I can still kick you out.” “Then you’d be unsatisfying your girlfriend on all accounts.” “You motherfucker.” Henry shakes his head but he’s grinning. It’s a wicked grin.
