Sloane’s POVThe dryer was already running when he found me.I stood in front of the folding table with a basket of warm clothes, the low hum and steady thump of the machine filling the small laundry room. Mom had gone to the store. The house was quiet except for the dryer and the soft rustle of fabric as I sorted towels. I wore one of his old T-shirts and a pair of shorts that barely covered anything. No bra. No panties. I hadn’t bothered.The door opened behind me.I didn’t turn around right away. I felt him before I saw him—the shift in the air, the quiet weight of his presence. Then his hands settled on my hips, warm and sure, and his mouth brushed the side of my neck.“You’re supposed to be studying,” Damon said against my skin.“I was. Then the cycle finished.”His fingers slid under the hem of the T-shirt, tracing the bare skin of my stomach. “And you decided to do laundry half-dressed.”“It’s hot in here.”He made a low sound that was almost a laugh and turned me around to fac
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