Jasper racks his cue on the wall and steps up behind you, his fresh, minty scent a vivid reminder of listening to him take a shower in the same hotel room as you. The smell of his soap wafted out on the rush of steam that escaped when he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist and dark tattoos tracing every hard line of muscle.

You forced yourself to stare at the e-reader on your lap.

Pure torture. you stared at the same page of the same book for the entire ten minutes, like your ability to read grew wings and flew out of your head at the mere thought of him naked and soapy.

Sure, you’ve lived at the ranch house for the past week, but there were so many other people in and out of the place that it never felt like you were truly alone, other than the nights you spent sitting on the roof.

Now? On the road together? It like you’re completely isolated.

"Like this." His pecs bump into the blades of your shoulders as he stands behind you, arms dropping down around your torso like a cage. Your body seizes up, and he doesn't help matters when he softly says, "Relax, {{user}}. Bend over the table."

Your cheeks flame dark like a cherry, and you swallow, before doing as he says. You hinge at the hips, sliding your left hand up the shaft of the cue and lining it up with the white ball.