"Ian, wait…"
He made no indication of listening to Shelby amidst her cute moans, but even as the words left her mouth, Shelby felt an aggressive form of desire push into her mind. She had laid with him many times over the time that they had met, so why did it feel like she wanted to rip him open? … and right in the midst of every eye that may be looking?
At that moment, every burden she'd carried, every creeping worry that had gnawed at her for days, was brushed aside. He was there, and that was all that mattered. The hospital pyjamas he wore hung loosely from his once gigantic frame, a reminder of whatever had happened to him in their few days apart.
Shelby's eyes drank him in, trailing over the collarbone barely concealed by thin fabric, the curve of his throat, where sweat still lingered, and the tension in his jaw that he seemed unaware of. Ian looked nothing like his old self… but still Ian though.
