Page 26 of Sharing Shane

Wyatt’s mouth dropped open, and for a brief moment, Shane had the rare satisfaction of having rendered him speechless.

“You fucking pervert,” Wyatt finally said gleefully.

“I know. Paid for it, though.”

“Soap in your urethra?” Wyatt guessed and laughed. “Serves you right.”

“I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m never going to last a week in this cottage with her, Wyatt.”

“Yeah, she’ll probably notice when she runs out of body wash.”

Shane scowled. “Blow me.”

Wyatt laughed and set his coffee on the counter. “We can do that later, too. Though since we’re inside where none of Seth’s stuffy lawyer colleagues might stumble across us...”

He reached out, grabbed the waistband of Shane’s boxers, and yanked.

Shane grunted as his body collided with Wyatt’s, muscle against muscle. He grunted again when Wyatt’s arms wrapped around him, hands clamping onto his ass. “Don’t start something you won’t be able to finish,” he warned.

Wyatt flicked his tongue out, wetting his lips, his pretty blue eyes going dark. “I’m not starting anything. I just want a kiss.”

“You want a kiss?” Shane asked roughly and speared his hands through Wyatt’s hair. The faint whimper had Shane’s lips peeling back in a feral grin. He bent his head slightly to drag his tongue over Wyatt’s lower lip. “Ask nicely.”

Wyatt’s breath shuddered out. “I want a kiss, please.”

“Good boy,” Shane whispered and slanted his mouth over Wyatt’s.

Shane drove his tongue into Wyatt’s mouth, taking the kiss deep. They were both breathing hard when he pulled back to nip at his lower lip. “Dammit. You taste like coffee.”

Wyatt’s laughter vibrated between them. “Sorry.”

Shane rested his forehead against Wyatt’s, his lips quirked up in a faint grin. “And you got me hard again.”

“I know.” Wyatt pushed his hips forward, grinding against the erection that wasn’t at all contained by Shane’s boxers. An impish grin lit his face. “Want to step into the shower and take care of that?”

Shane laughed, then a flash of movement caught his attention. He picked his head up, and Veronica froze in the opening of the sliding glass door.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m interrupting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shane began, then he noticed what she was wearing and his brain shut down.

Bikini. Red bikini, bright against her white skin. Low on the hips and skimpy on the tits and wet so it clung to her like paint, and fuck, he was so screwed.

“Damn,” Wyatt muttered under his breath.

See? Shane wanted to say. See what I’m dealing with here?

“It’s fine,” he managed and stepped to the side so his lower half would be hidden by the kitchen island.

Wyatt shot him an exasperated look before turning to face Veronica. “You must be Veronica,” he said with a smile, leaning on the counter. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Wyatt.”

“Oh!” She took a step forward, a tentative smile curving her lips. “It’s nice to meet you. Delia talks about you a lot.”

“All good, I assume,” Wyatt said, pouring on the charm.

Veronica laughed, lifting the towel in her hand to her dripping hair. “It’s Delia, so no guarantees.”

“Fair point,” Wyatt agreed. “Listen, I was just about to convince Shane to order some lunch. Want to join us?”

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