"What?" Sasha teased, her voice sultry, her lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. "Are you just going to stare, lover boy?"
Ross finally met her gaze, and his answering smirk was slow and devastating.
"Of course not," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "I'm just taking a moment to appreciate the peak of human beauty sitting in front of me."
He leaned back then, standing up beside the bed. His hands moved to his waist as he undid his belt, the soft click of the buckle sending a strange thrill through her.
Slowly, he pulled off his shirt, revealing lean muscle beneath—every inch of him taut and defined, sculpted like a man who had long mastered control over himself.
Sasha watched, captivated.
Each movement was deliberate. Every moment drawn out. He wasn't just undressing. He was inviting her to want him more.
His pants dropped next, leaving him in only his boxers. And even that thin fabric couldn't hide the way his body reacted to her—wanted her.
