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“So, not an exhibitionist then?”
“No.” He pulls his shirt out of his jeans and, with his blue eyes locked on mine, tugs it over his head before tossing it into a hamper.
The arm, inside out, hangs over the edge.
“Nice shot.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Psh.” I cross my arms over my chest. “No.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he says, his voice calm and easy. “Nothing’s going to happen here that you aren’t in control of.” He tugs the top button of his jeans free, but I hold up a hand, stopping him.
He raises an eyebrow but drops his hand and stands up straight. I walk to him slowly, biting my bottom lip and letting my gaze rake over him from head to toe.
“There’s no need to rush that,” I inform him, enjoying how the low light plays across his smooth skin. The way it dances over his ink.
The sleeve covers him from just above his wrist to over his shoulder. If he’s in a suit, you’d never know they’re there.
But without the shirt, it’s a sight to behold.
“Who was the artist?” I ask as I reach out and gently brush my fingertips over a tiger, then down a rose.
“There were several,” he replies softly. His voice is rougher than before, but he stays still, allowing me to explore at my own pace. “It took a few years to complete.”
I circle around him and let my hand slide over his skin. I can’t control the gasp that escapes when I see his back.
“Holy fuck, Gray.”
He turns his head and looks back at me over his shoulder. “Like that?”
All thoughts of seduction are gone as I step closer and examine Gray’s back. The taut skin over incredible muscle is sexy enough.
But add a work of art like this, and it’s beyond sexy.
It’s a big tree, like the tree of life, with twisted branches that lead down to the trunk and then into the roots. Birds fly out of the tree, and I see symbols I don’t understand.
“Tell me about this.”
“It’s the Norse tree of life, with a Nordic compass and runes.”
“It’s stunning. The first time I saw you, I thought you looked like a Viking.”
“As much as I enjoy you checking me out and touching the ink, you’re making me just a little wild over here, Stella.”
I can’t help myself. I lean in and press a kiss to the center of his back, directly in the middle of the tree of life, and absorb the heat of him.
“Fuck,” he whispers and then spins, grasping my shoulders in his hands before kissing me breathless—until I can’t remember my own damn name.
And when he starts urging me back toward the bed, I happily go with him. I can’t wait to get him naked and explore every glorious inch of him.
He’s well over six feet tall, and from what I’ve seen so far, he’s all gorgeous muscle.
The backs of my knees meet the mattress, but before I lie back, I clasp the front of his jeans and unfasten the rest of the buttons, smiling when the denim hangs loosely on his hips.
“That’s kind of hot,” I murmur and then look up into eyes that are so bright and heated they just might burn me.
With my gaze boldly on his, I tug my sweater over my head and let it fall to the floor. Gray’s eyes flick down to my bare skin, and when I unfasten my bra and let it fall with the sweater, those eyes narrow on me.
“There. Equal footing.”
“Not even close,” he whispers. His hands ball and relax at his sides as if he’s itching to touch me.
“You can touch,” I urge him.
“Not yet. Take your pants off.”
I do as he demands. I slide my jeans down my hips and step free, standing before him as naked as the day I was born.
He lets out a long, ragged breath, and without being asked, I scoot back onto the bed, resting on my hands as I smile up at him.
“Are you going to leave me here all alone, or are you going to join this little party?”
He quickly shucks his pants, and before I can properly ogle him, Gray climbs onto the bed and covers me with his body, his elbows planted on the bed beside my shoulders. Pushing his hands into my hair, he kisses me long and slow.
I can’t stop touching him. My hands roam over his back, down to his ass, and return to his neck again. He’s broad and firm with smooth, warm skin, and I want to eat him alive.
I’m cradling him between my legs, and I can feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my very ready center.
But rather than push inside of me, he pulls back and gazes down at me instead, brushing his thumb over the apple of my cheek sweetly.
