Tag: paris, roan

Paris rubbed his forehead against his, running his hands through Roan‘s hair, and said, ‘How about we come back here and exchange notes once we‘re done with the interviews? Take a long lunch.”Only exchange notes?”No one said we can‘t exchange notes in bed.

Paris came down the stairs looking incredible. He‘d gone with the simple classic look of the tight white T-shirt, the low-slung jeans that showed off a glimpse of his flat belly, and a black leather jacket. His hair was perfectly mussed, a calculated look that seemed natural and sexy. At the bottom of the staircase, he turned around slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. “Well, how do I look?”Damn. “Like I want to rip your clothes off right this second. You‘re gonna kill that kid. He‘s going to explode, and they‘re going to have to scrape his remains off the wall.””Yeesh, I was with you until you got descriptive.””Can‘t help it. You make me poetic.””I thought I made you horny.””Same damn thing.