Kevin's pov
Watching Sarah walk into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel that barely covered her assets was a test of my self-restraint. It was early, the sun just beginning to hit the penthouse windows, and I was already on my third cup of coffee. The damp fabric clung to the curve of her hips, and as she reached for a mug, the towel hiked up even further.
I felt a familiar, heavy pulse in my groin. I was a man of high drives, a fact Lyra knew intimately, and seeing a beautiful woman practically naked in my son’s kitchen was enough to stir the beast. My c**k hardened against the fabric of my trousers, a thick, insistent weight.
But my mind was elsewhere. Specifically, on Lyra.
She was currently obsessed with playing the role of the perfect wife. Ever since Elliot started fawning
