Yeah. He knew. His stomach felt funny, his breathing was out of control, and all he could think about was that he could feel the two hardened tips of her nipples boring holes into his chest. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He covered them both with his palms as she slid her hands beneath his jersey, but that wasn’t enough either.

It took him less than two seconds to untie her halter top and tug it down, baring her breasts, which were perfect, mouthwatering handfuls. Her fingers were fumbling with his pants as his thumbs grazed over those nipples he wanted in his mouth.

Wanted.

Needed.

So he bent and gently sucked one between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, loving the shocked, needy little gasp that tugged out of her. She got his button undone and his zipper down and her fingers danced over him, which had her letting out another gasp. Gratifying? Oh, hell yeah, and with a nipple in his mouth, he slid his hands up her thighs beneath her dress and found—

Ah, man.

A thong. God bless the thong.

He hooked his fingers in the silk sides and tugged, rolling the silk down her legs until it hit the floor, his favorite place for panties. Palming her sweet ass, he slid his fingers lower, finding her wet and creamy. His ears rang with the hunger pounding through him as he slipped into that wet heat—

Wait. That wasn’t the blood in his ears pounding.

But someone pounding at the door.

“Gage. It’s Gage,” Holly hissed and pushed him back a step, lifting shaking hands to adjust the dress he’d nearly torn off of her.

He concentrated on zipping his pants and dragging air into his lungs as he watched her cover her gorgeous breasts, the one still wet from his mouth—

Her thong was on the floor, but just as he took a step toward it, Gage stopped knocking and opened the door. “Showtime,” he announced, coming right in. Oblivious.

Pace tore his gaze off the tiny white scrap of material and looked at Holly. Her eyes were wide as she stood there in the pretty halter dress, looking sweet and professional and just a little bit panicked.

Because she wasn’t wearing panties.

“Showtime,” Gage repeated to Pace. “You ready?”

Right. “Ready.” His voice was low and husky and just a little bit hoarse. He tried not to look at the thong, but it was hard, he was hard, and his brain was suffering from severe blood deprivation. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to bust another zipper, and this time it would be his fault.

The thong, the thong . . .

Gage looked at Holly and frowned. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She flashed him a smile that worked because Gage didn’t know her like Pace did. And he did know her. He knew she wanted her underwear. “Gage,” he said. “What’s that behind you?”