wonder if he’s wearing any underwear beneath his robe? I facepalm for even thinking that. When I look up, Church is raising a single, skeptical brow at me. “Did you just literally facepalm to your own thoughts?” he asks, and I grimace. I have a bad habit of wearing my heart on my sleeve. He smiles at me before I get a chance to respond and sets his teacup aside, leaning forward and putting a hand between my legs. My robe catches under his palm, giving me absolutely zero chance of escaping. “I love how animated you are, Mr. Carson.”
