Page 77 of Sharing Shane

A devilish grin curled his lips. “Not at all.”

He turned to Shane, humor and heat dancing in his blue eyes. “She wants to watch, Shane. Should we give her a show?”

Shane opened his mouth to warn Wyatt about being a pervert again, but he didn’t have the chance. Wyatt’s mouth was on his, soft at first because Wyatt was always patient, then firmer, with a hint of tongue. After five years Shane could map out Wyatt’s kisses moment by moment, but they never failed to stir him.

The rumble started in his chest, working its way up his throat to spill out against Wyatt’s lips, and they curved in what Shane knew would be a smug, self-satisfied smile.

Impatient, and suddenly ravenous for his lover’s taste, Shane opened his mouth. He nearly groaned again as Wyatt slid his tongue inside, slow and teasing at first, then more aggressive. It was rare for Wyatt to be the aggressor, though he’d been known to if he was feeling particularly randy. Shane figured their hands-off policy this week, combined with the fact that Shane was sleeping with Veronica, had lit a fire in his lover.

Then Wyatt shoved both hands into Shane’s hair and took the kiss deep, fast and hard, and Shane was half a step away from dragging him down and ripping into him when Wyatt broke free.

Panting, his mouth wet from the kiss, Wyatt stared into Shane’s eyes for a long moment. All the playfulness was gone, replaced with raw, unfettered lust. Then he smiled, laughter dancing back into his eyes, and licked his lips.

“That ought to hold me,” he said breezily and straightened with a wink. “See you later, babe. Bye, Veronica.”

“Bye,” Veronica said faintly, and Shane turned to look at her as the door clicked closed behind Wyatt.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That was hotter than I remembered.”

Shane was still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“You’re turned on right now.”

“Yes.”

“By Wyatt.”

“Yes.”

Her eyes were locked on his, her pupils dilated and the green and gold flecks in her irises glowing. “Would it be incredibly tacky for me to take advantage of that?”

“Tacky?” he echoed.

“Yeah. Rude, uncouth, vulgar, ill-mannered.” She waved a hand in the air. “Tacky.”

“To...?”

“To want to fuck you right now.”

He blinked, his brain struggling to shift gears. “You want to fuck?”

“I want to fuck.”

“Now?”

“Oh yeah.” She slid to her feet and whipped the caftan off to reveal what she had on underneath—nothing. “Right now.”

“Damn.” He would’ve smiled if there had been enough blood left in his brain to send the signal. As it was, he barely had the wit to shift over on the sofa to give her enough room to straddle him. “You mean right now.”

She flipped the button on his shorts open and slid her hand inside to wrap her fingers around him. “That okay with you?”

He had to swallow before he could answer. “There’s a condom in my pocket.”

Her smile was sharp as a blade. “Get it ready. I’m going to need it in a minute.”

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