The urge to rip the clothes off him and shove them at Brendon is stronger than I would like it to be, but I follow him to our room. His ass looks fucking delicious in those damn pants. I should make him come in those fucking pants before I give them back to Brendon. In our room with the door closed, I shove the garment bag at Jeremy. “Change.” The word is a command. Jeremy straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me?” I step closer to him, into his personal space. “Change.”
