Heaven's heart pounded with anticipation as he led her to the washroom.
It was quiet there, the air steamy from a recently run shower, the light dim and intimate.
She watched silently as Ross peeled off his shirt, revealing the body she now knew all too well—each line of muscle, each scar, each inch of skin.
Without a word, he stepped up to the wall, reached for the corner near the ceiling, and carefully covered the security camera with a towel.
Then he turned to her.
And there was hunger in his eyes.
Raw. Powerful. Focused entirely on her.
He moved with intent—slow, deliberate steps—until he stood before her like a predator who had waited just long enough.
And then he was on her.
His mouth met hers with a desperate hunger, kissing her like a man starved.
His hands roamed her body without hesitation, tugging at her clothes, pulling her close.
There was no small talk, no pretense—just need. Pure, consuming need.
