Isla Prescott buried her face in Shane Sterling's neck and said nothing.
Shane Sterling cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Isabelle, answer me."
"It's exactly what you think it is."
Her soft, sweet voice sent Shane Sterling's physical response to its peak.
He moved in forcefully, searching for her lips.
Isla Prescott grabbed his arm, her nerves getting the better of her. "Can we turn off the lights?"
"Okay."
Shane Sterling switched off the bedside lamp, leaving the moonlight filtering through the curtains as the room's sole source of light.
Isla Prescott finally relaxed a little in the darkness. She saw Shane Sterling move over her, his long legs bending as he knelt on either side of her and took off his shirt.
Shane Sterling had a classic lean-muscle build. His body fat was low, with muscle lines that were distinct but not overly bulky. In the hazy light, what Isla Prescott saw was a well-proportioned, toned, and sculpted silhouette.
