Page 35 of Torrid Passion
I uncross my legs, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch.Why do I even bother?
His eyes follow my every move.
“Can I confess something to you, Kyla?”
“Of course.”
To my surprise, Loki stands up. With his gaze still locked onto mine, he slides his meticulously cut gray jacket off his wide shoulders and undoes his tie. He drops both on the chair he was sitting on. He then undoes three buttons, offering a peek of his chest.
Jesus.
I’ve been lucky enough to see him shirtless when I hung out at his parents’ house as I was growing up. Throughout the years, Loki went from a boy to a hunk with perfectly sculpted abs, impressive shoulders, defined back and bulging biceps. His V muscle is a work of art. I know some say the size of a man’s feet has nothing to do with his manhood, but in Loki’s case, I’d like to believe they’re connected.
God.
I catch his gaze and it’s obvious he knows I’m ogling.
Something shifts between us.
He offers a cocky smile.
I’m too stunned to respond.
I keep staring.
Look, but don't touch.
Funny how my body refuses to heed this wisdom because right now, I really, really want to touch him. Heck, I want him to touch me, too.
Sigh.
As I admire him, I reach for my foot, ready to remove my high heels, but he stops me.
“No. Those stay on,” he commands. “They look too fucking hot to remove them.” His words travel at light speed to my pussy. “Unless your feet hurt.”
I shake my head, “No.”
“Good. Keep them on.”
“Okay.”
Help me God, his decisiveness is such a turn on.
He undoes the buttons around his wrists and rolls up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt to the elbows, revealing forearms covered in ink.Is he trying to make me lose my mind?The magnificent sight makes me squirm in my seat. Everything about him speaks precision and control, while he wears an aura of badassness like a second skin. If he snapped his fingers and commanded me to drop to my knees, I’d do it without an ounce of forethought… or shame. I’m that taken by him.
Lochlan Berkshire’s confidence is justified. God was very good to him.
Strapping.
Oh, so tempting.
Hot with a capital H.
Oozing with raw sexuality.
Six foot four inches of pure yumminess.
Metrosexual or spornosexual, he’s not.Thank God.
