He’s not done

She barely has time to react. One moment she's turning toward the bathroom, the next she feels the fabric of her thong rip away from her hips, the cool air hitting her bare skin. A gasp escapes her as strong arms scoop her up, her tube top catching on something—she's not sure what—and falling away as he carries her across the hall.

The door clicks shut behind them. She's on her back on the pull-out couch before she can catch her breath, looking up at him in the grey dawn light, completely naked, still wet with the evidence of what they just did.

He looks hungry…