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Summary
With a grin, Ilya leans up and kisses Shane slowly, “Who knew laundry got Shane Hollander so hot and bothered?”
“I hate you,” Shane groans, shoving at Ilya’s chest.
Ilya catches Shane's wrist in his hand and presses a gentle kiss to the soft skin there. Shane's heart stutters and he wonders if Ilya can feel the change in his pulse against his lips.
“No, you don't,” Ilya grins, staring up at him with wide eyes.
—
Ilya spills wine and Shane offers to wash his shirt, but becomes distracted by obvious Ilya Rosanov related reason.
