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My heart skips a beat at being called out. It’s tempting to deny the accusation, but what would be the point?
He knows.
We both do.
When he lowers the towel, his gaze skewers mine. Instead of looking away, I force myself to hold his stare.
One brow lifts as his voice drops, becoming deeper. “Feeling bold, are we?”
I swallow past the thick lump that has lodged itself in the middle of my throat. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into me this afternoon.
This isn’t me.
It’s never been me.
I’m a lot meeker.
I’m a look-before-you-leap type of girl. I’ve had to be. I can’t afford to make mistakes the way other people can.
But I don’t know…
There’s something about Austin and the way he watches me. It’s almost as if he wants to eat me up in one tasty gulp.
Then there’s the fact that my life has imploded and is careening out of control.
Maybe I’m tired of always playing it safe.
Being overly cautious.
Especially when he makes me feel things I never have before.
He holds out the towel. “Mind helping?”
I stare as the question circles through my brain.
I hear what he’s not saying.
It’s not a demand. He’s giving me a choice.
I could tell him to go to hell, but…
I don’t want to.
That’s all the encouragement I need to rise to my feet and close the distance between us before taking the plush material from his outstretched hand. A fresh wave of nerves skitters across my skin as he turns, giving me the broad expanse of his back. Without his gaze burning into mine, I can once again breathe.
I swipe the soft cotton across his shoulder blades. It seems like the safest place to start. Transfixed, I watch the beads of moisture disappear from his skin. Austin stands perfectly still as I lose myself in the task. Even through the towel, I feel the heat radiating from him in heavy waves.
Once his shoulders and arms have been thoroughly dried, my movements drift along his spine, swiping over him one vertebra at a time before skimming across the sculpted muscles of his back.
Everything about him is hard and sinewy.
There’s nothing soft about the guy.
When the large swath of skin has been finished, I run the towel over his waist as my gaze dips to the taut muscles of his backside. Air gets wedged in my lungs as I sweep the cotton over one cheek and then the other.
God, he’s beautiful.
I never thought I’d say that about a guy’s ass, but it’s one hundred percent the truth. I’m struck with the strange urge to sink my teeth into the muscular flesh.
