Sunday
Talen released his hair from the bun, and ran his fingers through to loosen it, flicking it back over his shoulders before beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. He watched Aislen through heavily lidded eyes with a small smile on his lips. He deliberately teased her, taking his time, and turning just as he reached the last button, shrugging out of the shirt with his back to her.
“I like this view as much as the front one,” she told him, enjoying the display of muscles shifting beneath the lion’s mane of blonde hair as he undid his belt and toed out of his boots.
“Hmm,” he flicked an amused look over his shoulder as his jeans sagged off his hips. He left them on, the top button undone and the fly straining to contain his erection, and took a sip of champagne as he walked over
