It seemed like years since Jake had settled himself on the couch, tapping his foot and trying to not look at the clock. His visit upstairs had sent his pulse racing, his desire grinding hard against his need to be with her.
A noise brought him to his feet and turned him toward the stairs.
Time stopped as he saw the barefoot woman standing on the steps. She paused upon spotting the two men.
"Jake," she murmured. "Hunter." Angela continued her slow drift down the stairs, wearing a red robe with the belt tied in a loose knot barely doing its job. Her long loose hair, still damp, tempted him to reach out and take hold.
Take her.
Jake growled, surprising himself with the raw emotion.
"Hey, Jake. Want a drink?" Hunter called out from the kitchen.
He shook his head without turning around,
