While Rory read, Zane flipped through channels on the ancient TV, but there was only a handful of channels to choose from, and most of those had poor reception—the picture often pixilating and freezing. Zane switched off the set in disgust and turned to Rory, who set down his tablet.
They’d kissed and cuddled for a while—what Zane could do with that long tongue of his ought to be illegal, especially when he stopped using it abruptly— and then he asked, “Good book?”
“Huh?” Rory’s mind was in a lust-filled fog; he couldn’t understand what Zane meant.
“The story you were reading. Is it good?”
“Uh.” Rory had to think. “Not bad but a bit dry in parts.”
Zane didn’t say anything and Rory was about to pick up his tablet again when the big guy cleared his throat and, not looking directly at Ro
