Page 48 of Unpacking Secrets
It was followed by a slow, devastating smile as he drew the shirt over his head and tossed it onto the counter next to me. My breath caught in my throat as I studied him.
He really was beautiful. Sleek curves of muscle bunched and shifted beneath olive skin that was dusted with dark hair, trailing down toward the sharp vee of his hip bones before dipping below the waistband of his jeans. His muscles were smooth, defined but not bulky. I knew firsthand just how strong they were—strong enough to sweep me off my feet. Literally.
The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window flowed lovingly over his chest. My fingers itched to do the same. He seemed neither bashful nor impatient, so I contented myself with absorbing every detail of his bare torso.
There’d be time enough for touching.
“You know,” I said lightly, trying to ignore the low simmer of blood in my veins, “art schools always need nude models. You really should do your civic duty and volunteer. An entire generation of artistic talent is missing out on all this beauty.”
Henry dried his hands and set aside the dish towel before leaning toward me across the counter. I dragged my gaze from his chest to his face, meeting his amused smirk.
“Beauty, huh? You should know by now that the only artist I’d ever pose nude for is you, Red.”
“Hmm,” I replied. “There’s a thought.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about drawing him, but the image of him lounging naked before me inspired a variety of desires that had nothing to do with art. Especially now that I could see what I’d been missing.
When he raised a questioning brow, waiting for me to speak, I cocked my head and said, “I think you should come over here.”
Nineteen
Henry
Withasmile,Irounded the counter, watching her eyes darken as I closed the distance between our bodies. An involuntary shiver ran through her and I recognized it immediately, knew it for the aching need it represented.
I felt it just as keenly myself.
As I moved to stand between her knees, she shifted on the chair, spreading her legs to make room for me, and I had to remind myself to go slow.
Even if every inch of my body wanted to capture that sweet mouth and ravish her until morning.
“And now?” I asked, my voice low and husky.
“I’d like to touch you,” she said simply.
I spread my arms wide in invitation. Without hesitation, she reached out to smooth her palms over my shoulders, down my biceps, and back up again, the hunger in her beautiful eyes intensifying throughout the exploration. I stood perfectly still, watching her face and realizing she wore the same look of wonder I’d noticed that day at the beach.
A guy could get used to dating an artist.
Her expression alone was thoroughly arousing, nevermind the trail of heat left by her fingers. It might kill me to keep still, to be patient, but it was worth the effort just to watch her watching me.
“You’re beautiful,” Juliet told me as her hands splayed over my chest.
A groan dragged from my throat when those soft fingers moved through the rough hair there. Even with my gaze focused on her expression, I could feel the weight of her regard on my skin. This bold intensity from her was electrifying.
When I couldn’t bear to stand still for another moment, I set my hands on her knees. I hadn’t seen her bare legs since that day in the forest and wasn’t sure if the tenderness of the bruise was completely gone, so I kept my touch light as my hands slid slowly upward from her kneecaps, coasting along the outside of her thighs.
Once they reached her hips and cupped those perfect curves, Juliet finally lifted her eyes to meet mine. I held her gaze for a moment, then lowered my lips to graze her jawline, nuzzling the soft skin.
“So are you,” I whispered against her ear.
This time I felt the tremor go through her, and a swift rush of satisfaction coursed through my veins. Her hands left my chest to twine around my neck.
“I can take my shirt off, if you’d like a better view,” she breathed, echoing my offer.
“Yes, please.”
A laugh escaped her lips, a hint of sound that was breathless and so erotic I wasn’t sure I could wait to get my hands on her bare skin. It took all of my strength to straighten up and let her lift the shirt over her head, revealing the turquoise bra I’d caught sight of in her bathroom that first night when I brought her home—and the creamy, freckled skin I knew would feel like silk under my fingers.
