Ilya didn’t reply. He just turned his head so his nose was buried in Shane’s hair, and breathed.
Chapter Twenty
“Found you.”
Shane nearly toppled off the stability ball he was balancing on at the sound of Ilya’s voice. “Jesus.”
He steadied himself and managed to hold his position, standing with his knees slightly bent on top of the large blue ball. It would have been easier—and would have made more sense—to simply hop off the ball, but he felt like showing off a bit.
“Impressive,” Ilya drawled. In the mirrors that lined one wall, Shane watched him saunter across the floor of the spacious home gym that took up most of Ilya’s basement. “How long have you been on there? Two hours?”
He leaned against the weight rack next to Shane, and their eyes met in the mirror. Like Shane, Ilya was wearing only workout shorts, his feet bare.
“I don’t know,” Shane said tersely. “You made me lose count.”
“Aw.”
“Good morning, by the way.”
“Yes.”
“Seems like you slept well.” Shane had been awake for over an hour, but had left Ilya to sleep.
“Very well. Full of energy now.” Ilya’s gaze raked over Shane as he said it, and Shane wobbled on the ball.
“Are you hungry?” Shane asked.
“Always.” Ilya pushed off the weight rack and parked himself in front of Shane. His lips were twisted into that damn half smile that always meant trouble.
“Go away.”
“You are the perfect height for kissing now. Taller than me, even.”
“Don’t.”
Ilya leaned in. “Can you do it? Kiss me without falling?”
Probably not, but that didn’t mean Shane wouldn’t try. “Bring it.”
Ilya tilted his head and brought his lips close. When it became apparent that he was going to make Shane come to him, Shane huffed and closed the distance. For one magical second, they were kissing. Then Shane fell forward, and Ilya, the asshole, stepped backward.
“Thanks, shithead,” Shane grumbled as he pulled himself off the floor.
Ilya was laughing, one hand planted on the mirror.
“That’s going to leave a handprint,” Shane said, which, yes. Evenhecould hear how insufferable he sounded.
“Oh no,” Ilya teased, but he removed his hand.
“Did you come down here to work out?”
Ilya walked over to the weight rack and sat on the bench tucked inside. He spread his legs wide, showing off his muscular thighs and the bulge that pressed against the front of his shorts. He stretched his arms over his head, grinning lazily at Shane. “No.”
Shane’s gaze embarked on a journey, starting with the long fingers brushing the barbell that rested near the top of the rack, then down Ilya’s sculpted biceps and forearms. Then it traveled to his broad, lightly furred chest and the chain that glinted next to his bear tattoo, and finally down to his impressive abs and the trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.
Jesus. His boyfriend was fucking stunning.
Shane stepped into the wide V of Ilya’s legs. Their thighs brushed together, and Ilya placed firm hands on Shane’s waist, guiding him closer.
