"Yes it is..." Misha drawled, pausing even longer than Bella had.
"Very hard. So I guess you're just gonna have to trust me."
His own fists were gripping onto the side of his sweats, the fabric nearly tearing under the stress. Bella was playing with fire, but as much as Misha wanted to prove himself to her over and over again, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of advancing and being rejected.
Misha slowly let go of his shorts, only to catch at the bottom hem of his shirt. He dragged it up over his head, baring his toned chest and abs, still damp from his run. Misha was vividly aware that he wasn't exactly soft, but he wasn't hard either, not enough that it would be obscene. And so, he did the same with his shorts, pulling them over his hips and dropping them to the ground. He stood beside the bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs.
"Well," he said, looking at Bella impatiently.
"Are you going to move over, or are you taking back your offer to share?"