Babysitting the Mafia Princess
The one she claimed to hate in the past.
His hands slid down to the waistband of her sleep shorts, fingers hesitating at the elastic. Sky lifted her hips in silent permission. Charlie swallowed hard, hooking his fingers into the fabric and drawing it slowly down her legs. The sight of her nearly naked beneath him made his breath catch in his throat.
“You’re staring,” Sky whispered, a flush spreading across her chest and up to her cheeks.
“Can’t help it,” Charlie admitted, drinking her in. “You’re perfect.”
She reached for him then, tugging at his sweatpants. “Your turn.”
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