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The parts behind what he just so rightly called out as a defense mechanism.
“Stand tall,”my mother would always tell me.“Be a man. You won’t get any respect from anyone, cowering like you do.”
A finger crooks under my chin, nudging my head up. “Hey, none of that.”
“Sor—”
He arches a brow and I slam my mouth together.
Despite all the times my mother and father berated me for the same thing, this feels different. I don’t feel like he’s admonishing my meekness, so much as…drawing me out, telling me it’s okay. Like he sees me—the real me—and he’s telling me it’s okay. It’s safe to come out now.
Inhaling deeply, I nod.
He pulls away, stepping back, and grabs the bottom of his shirt.
Not taking his eyes off me, he tugs it up over his torso, revealing miles and miles of tanned skin and rippling muscle.
Jesus, is that an actual six-pack?
He pauses with the shirt bunched up around his broad chest, tattoos peeking out from beneath the thin, wet cotton. “You still sure about this?”
My eyes fly to his and I nod jerkily, my throat unbearably tight. “I promise I’ll tell you if I’m not.”
His lips purse, almost like he’s not happy with that response. But before I can insist just how certain I am, he yanks his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Not taking his eyes off me, he proceeds to unbutton his jeans, and shoves them down over his hips. Leaving him in nothing but skin-tight black boxer briefs.
“Do you not own shorts?” I hear myself say.
Nolan shrugs. “Hate shorts.” He toes off his jeans, kicking them off to the side, and approaches me. Without hesitation, he reaches for my fly and pops the button.
I suck in a sharp breath, fists clenching and releasing at my sides.
He eyes me with a look of challenge, almost as if he’s silently daring me to stop him—stop this.
Yeah, over my dead body.
Rather than say that out loud though, I just stare back defiantly, silently urging him to keep going.
His mouth twitches, and he tips his head, as if conceding. “How’s your leg?” His gaze dips with his words, and the soft white bandage wrapped around my calf makes itself known, reminding me it’s there.
Probably wasn’t supposed to go in the ocean with that…
“It’s getting better. Didn’t even need stitches. Just glue,” I say, shrugging.
“And your side? Your ribs?”
“A little sore, but nothing I can’t handle. The bruises are already fading.”Sort of.
He nods. “I’ll be more careful this time.”
I roll my eyes, and he pinches my chin. “Behave.”
My dick twitches, and I feel a flush ignite my cheeks.
He arches a knowing brow, and I dart my gaze away. “It looks worse than it is, okay? I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
Don’t hold back, please don’t hold back,I chant inwardly.
He releases my chin with a grunt. “Lift.”
