Not Ryan, though. No, he stood blatantly fingering the delicate trim of the thong with that nefarious curve to his lips.
The things she forgot. Like his admiration for lingerie…and high heels. Together.
Wear this for me…
Powerful memories that stole her breath and shocked her body into a state of desire it hadn’t known in altogether too long. Yearning heat slid through her, winding a disturbing channel of waking awareness down through the very center of her.
No! Not now. Not after all this time.
Not Ryan.
She’d given him up. Let him go. She’d just filed for divorce! Of all the men in the world, he was the dead last one she could look to.
It would be crazy. Futile. Utter stupidity.
And yet, the rough, midnight sound of it sent a shiver coursing through her. And the certainty…it would be hot. Intense. Utterly incredible.
Fortunately for both of them, if there was one thing Claire had plenty of experience with, it was breaking a mood. “Sorry, they don’t come in men’s sizes.”