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Summary
He and Shane are in bed together, Ilya’s lips attached to Shane’s neck as they lazily grind against each other, when Shane says, “So you’ve slept with like eight hundred women.”
Immediately, Ilya stops. He releases Shane’s neck—even though it makes Shane whine unhappily—and pulls back so he can meet Shane’s eyes. “What?”
“You’ve slept with eight hundred women,” Shane says. He’s a bit pink in the cheeks, but that might just be the arousal. “I did the math."
Series
- Part 23 of my anonymous heated rivalry fic
