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Maybe looking at his notifications had been a mistake. After naked laps in the saltwater pool and rinsing off under a sunset sky, Harry had planned to read in bed until their post-show FaceTime.
Now, all he could focus on were thighs—and the fingers gripping them.
These thighs were his to feel. Warm. Firm. Skin gold-soaked. But his hands found only absence—too cold. Sliding into his hair, needing something to hold.
His phone chimed.
Deep breath.
“Lou… Tell me you’re mine.”
A chuckle. “All yours.”
No doubt in his mind. Just not easy… being of the jealous kind.