Noah didn’t have anything on under his open jeans but you couldn’t see anything. Except for a dark thatch of hair. I bet it f*cking smelled good. I wonder if he still used Irish Spring…

Oh, God. I spun back around, and closed my eyes. What the h*ll?

“Charles,” I squeaked, making sure I tried to remain calm. Did I still smell like salacious s*x when calm?

“Noah, stop,” Charles said conversationally, standing from his cross-legged position. It was ...