Ty’s jeans were totally soaked and clung to him like a second skin, and Zane had to swallow hard. Jesus. “Good luck getting out of those gracefully,” he rasped with a slight smile, still leaning against the wall.

“Good luck thinking for the next hour,” Ty shot back with a smirk.

“Shit,” Zane muttered, turning into the spray to wash before leaning and shutting the water off.

Author: Abigail Roux