I don’t return the favor—I’m too greedy for that, and watching Sasha dress is one of my guilty pleasures. So I just sit back and enjoy the show.
He drags his pants back up over his toned butt and fastens his belt. His abs disappear, one row at a time, as he hikes his shirt back on and buttons it. He’s always so precise about his appearance. Cuffs get rolled perfectly, hair smoothed down. As if anyone who sees us walking out of here won’t know exactly what we’ve been doing.
I let out a mournful sigh when his body is hidden from view again. It’s almost a shame that he’s not required to stand on a pedestal in a busy intersection all day long. People should get to look at him. He’s an international treasure.
On the other hand, I don’t mind that he’s all mine.
We’re almost out the door when
