Kael was too far gone to care about Rhys.
"Lieutenant," Corvin's voice was a low, challenging growl as his fingers began to work their magic. "Eyes front, or step up. This is going to get messy."
Rhys didn't move. He sat there, stone-still, the heat and steam doing nothing to soften the rigid line of his jaw. His stormy blue eyes were locked on the scene, calculating and intense, watching the way Corvin's fingers made Kael's hips twitch. His own hands, still resting on his thighs, curled into fists, the knuckles turning white against the flush of his skin.
The sauna's heat was a living thing, curling around Kael, Rhys, and Corvin like a possessive lover, amplifying every sensation, every glance, every touch.
The air was thick with steam and unspoken desire, the cedar-scented haze blurring the edges of restraint.
