7. Chapter 6
Shane
You asshole! he chastised himself as he recalled her leery expression. After all these years praying for an opportunity to make things right with her, the last thing he needed was to fuck it up now.
His cock twitched as he remembered the outline of her lacy bra that teased him from beneath the sheer fabric of her blouse.
Her pointy tits begged for his attention as he feasted his eyes on them.
Shane rummaged through his bedroom closet and pulled a blue-and-black-plaid flannel shirt from the rack.
His feet pounded loudly over the wooden staircase as he returned. He held the balled-up shirt out to her and motioned to the top of the stairs. “The bathroom is the second door on the left. There are washcloths and towels folded on the shelf. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“You still wear flannel,” she said, her arms crossed over her breasts.
“It’s comfortable.” His arms hung by his sides, his hands twisting into tight fists to deter himself from rubbing her shoulders. He never thought he’d be jealous of an old flannel shirt. But damned if he wasn’t angry as hell that the fabric would warm her up instead of his body.
“Well, I agree. It is comfortable. Thanks for letting me borrow it.” She smiled prettily and moved toward the stairs.
Shane’s eyes never strayed from her rounded ass as she disappeared around the corner at the top of the stairs.
His dick strained against the confines of his sodden jeans, hard and aching with need.
This is going to be one hell of a long night, he thought as he knelt before the fireplace to stack kindling, adding split logs.
One strike of the match and the flames caught immediately, growing brighter with every passing second his mind and body burned for her.