"What the hell did you just do to her?" Chelsea's voice came out higher than she meant, shaky with disbelief and something hotter she didn't want to name.
She sat bolt upright in the tangle of sheets, clutching the blanket to her chest like it could shield her from what she'd just watched.
"I thought you were going to lie there and allow us to move. You just need to… just not move. That was the deal."
Ross turned his head slowly, lazily, like a panther deciding whether the mouse was worth the effort.
A low, satisfied laugh rumbled out of him. "Sweetheart," he drawled, voice gravel and smoke, "I didn't break any rules. Your sister looked me dead in the eye, spread those pretty legs, and begged me… I say again begged me… to ruin her. What kind of man would I be if I left a lady wanting?"
He rose from the bed in one fluid motion, all of him uncoiling like something carved from marble and sin.
