He moved. Pulled back far enough to reach for the waistband of her shorts with both hands, and Naomi lifted her hips without being asked, and he pulled them down and off in one motion and set them somewhere she didn't track.
The sanctum air was cool against the inside of her thighs.
She resisted the urge to press them together. Barely.
Jace looked at her. Actually looked, all of her, laid out against the cream sheets in nothing but her unfastened sports bra still bunched at her waist, and whatever his expression was doing during that moment, she was grateful she couldn't fully read it because she suspected it would have made her lose the remaining composure she was holding by a thread.
"Naomi."
"Don't say anything nice." The words came out faster than she intended, almost reflexive, her throat tight with something she wasn't ready to name. "I genuinely cannot handle that right now."
He closed his mouth.
