Opening the door to his room, he was glad Sammy wasn’t back yet. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he raked his hand through his hair. Damn, she had a way with him. He had never been able to hold it together so well, but at the same time, he was a mess. Standing, he eyed himself in the mirror. His arousal bulged in his pants and he craved release. It took all he had not to bend her over and fill every inch of her, and the very thought of her ass slamming against his hips made his erection grow, the friction rubbing against his boxers, pressing against his zipper. He went to the bathroom and closed the door. Reaching for his buckle, he undid the snap and unzipped his jeans. They slid down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Stepping out of them, he gripped his erection, rock solid in the palm of his hand. “Damn it, Olivia,” he whispered through clenched teeth. He stroked himself, closing his eyes as he thought about her. Leaning against the wall, he rested his head back, moving his hand up and down, his taut skin throbbing.
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