Chapter 8

He tilted his head at me, those sharp green eyes scrutinizing my face. His low voice sounded again. "Are you coming in or not?"

My breaths slowed at his open attention and I found myself saying, "Yes...I am."

With that he went over to his closet, taking bold strides. The mere act of him walking commanded attention. He walked with such animal grace and raw vitality. Lines of arrogance and something darkly menacing were stamped on the sharp planes of his face.

He withdrew a pair of worn jeans and made to sling it on, the towel parting. I looked away on instinct. Then looked back again, my mouth drying up at the size of his junk. It was huge.

Shirtless, he casually strolled over to the large chair at his reading table, seating.

Eyes never leaving me, he leaned back on his chair, muscles bunching as he propped an elbow on the armrest, absently twirling the gold ring on his finger. "You know what to do," he stated plainly.

My face scrunched in confusion. "What?"

A black brow went up. "Do