Page 104 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

A little performance?

What’s that supposed to mean?

He leans back against the couch, relaxed and confident, arms going behind his head. Gio has a tattoo on the underside of his bicep and I fixate on it before my eyes go back to his face.

I blink, pulling back slightly to look at him.

“Performance?”

He nods. “A lap dance. Think about it—what better way to celebrate your inevitable victory?”

“I…” I swallow nervously. “I’ve never had a lap dance.”

“Neither have I.”

I snort, shaking my head. “You’re so full of it. Do not sit there and tell me you haven’t been to a strip club.”

What a liar.

“Am I?” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to that low,teasing tone that always sends a shiver down my spine. “Come on, Austin—don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t curious.” My cheeks are on fire, heating under his penetrating gaze. “I just feel like this is one of those things thatsoundsbetter in theory.”

Before I can think too hard about it, he pushes himself off the couch and steps back, running a hand through his hair like he’s actually preparing for this. He’s shirtless and the dim light of my living room only makes the sharp lines of his chest and abs more noticeable.

Then, he pushes the coffee table to the other side of the room, clearing the space between us.

Oh, God.He’s serious.

His phone comes out, and he thumbs through it for several seconds before a sultry beat fills the room. He sets the phone on the now-displaced coffee table.

I sit frozen on the couch, my pulse racing as I watch him. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, a challenge that has me equal parts intrigued and terrified. His movements are slow, deliberate, as he steps closer to where I’m sitting, the music building around us.

“Relax, babe.” He is teasing me. “It’s just a dance.”

Babe.

“Just a dance,” I repeat, my voice coming out a little shakier than I’d like. “Uh huh.”

My breath hitches as he unbuttons his pants, sliding the zipper down with maddening patience. The denim clings to him for a moment before he peels them off in one smooth motion, leaving him standing there in nothing but boxer briefs.

Tight. Blue.

Briefs.

The dim light of the living room casts shadows over the sharp planes of his chest and abs, the soft glow making every muscle more pronounced.

Smooth and luminous, as if they were oiled up.

So handsome.

So sexy…

I gulp back a shot of air, nerves on edge, eyes straying to his dick.

It strains against the cotton material.

I want to touch him.

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