“You have a change of clothes in this bag or do you want one of my shirts?” She considered him through her lashes. “One of your shirts, please.” Leo nodded, turned for his bedroom, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. Her slow touch slid up to his shoulder, her finger tracing a line down the center of his chest. “This one.” Jesus, all of his blood was rushing south. “You want the one I’m wearing?” “Yes.” “Because you want to see me shirtless or because you feel vulnerable in my place and want to even the odds?” Her mouth ticked up at one end, as if she appreciated his perceptiveness.
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