Naked Scripts
came too fast and too slow.
The yacht had gone quiet. Most people were asleep or drunk or both. I waited until Kieran's breathing evened out beside me, soft snores filling our borrowed suite. Then I slipped out of bed, pulled on the silk robe over nothing but panties, and padded barefoot down the carpeted hall.
Room 14 door was cracked open. Just enough.
I pushed it wider.
Knox was waiting.
Shirtless. Sweatpants slung low on his hips. Arms braced on either side of the doorframe like he was holding himself back from lunging. The second our eyes met, the air turned thick, electric, suffocating with everything we'd been holding inside for days.