The shower hadn't just washed away the sweat; it had sharpened Jay's edge. He stepped out of the steam, his skin humming from the heat, and didn't reach for his own clothes. Instead, he went straight to Roman's walk-in closet a room larger than most people's apartments and pulled out a heavy, silk robe. It smelled like Roman's cologne: sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and power.
He tied the belt tight around his waist, feeling the luxurious fabric slide against his damp skin. In the bedroom, Roman was a shadow in the armchair, the only light coming from the glowing amber of his half-empty glass. He looked up, his gaze dragging over Jay in the stolen robe.
"I'm hungry," Jay announced. It wasn't a request. It was a statement of fact.
Roman's eyes darkened, a flick of his old dominance returning. "It's two in the morning, Jay."
