Serena
Iwatched, my breath in my throat, as Jed crossed to his workbench. He placed his water bottle down then, with his eyes on mine, placed his fingers at the hem of his shirt and began to lift.
Tanned, flat, hard stomach was followed by a very nice chest with a smattering of dark hair, and finally those shoulders I’d felt beneath my palms.
The man was a work of art all on his own. If I placed him in my gallery, I’d have women coming from miles to throw their money at me … that’s how good he looked.
My gaze trailed over his taut, dark skin, memorizing every inch until I reached his knowing grin. Not trusting my voice, I picked up my sketch book and began to draw once more. Once my eyes were diverted, I felt Jed move and peeked up to see him getting back to work.
That’s when I saw the magnificence of his back. Damn! Working construction was obviously good for the body, because his back and shoulders were the stuff wet dreams were made of, if that’s the kind of thing that does it for you … and, it totally is.
I bit back a groan and returned to the page before me.
I focused on getting his eyes right. To me, they were the most important part of any piece. If you could capture the truth of your subject in their eyes, then the viewer would have a better chance of connecting with it.
Every once in a while, I’d glance up to check out what Jed was doing, mentally noting his latest pose, and the way his body flexed and rippled with each movement.
It was really not fair. I was a petite and slender woman, but if I was shirtless, my skin would bunch and roll when I bent or squatted, it was just the way skin worked. Not Jed, the man seemingly didn’t have an ounce of body fat, and each movement just showcased another inch of beautifully carved man.
Maybe I should sculpt him.
I shook my head, dismissing the thought as soon as it entered. Sculpting had never been my medium. Nope, it was better to stick to my strengths and capture Jed properly.
At one point, I looked up to see Jed bending over the table, his glutes taut against the light fabric of his running shorts, his thighs big and defined. My eyes roamed over the muscles of his back and his trim waist, and I suddenly lost all interest in sketching.
My gaze drank in his tanned form and I noticed my body was beginning to throb.
Unwittingly I let out a sigh and dropped my pencil, causing Jed’s head to turn toward me. When he caught me staring and probably drooling a bit, he grinned and stood, then began to prowl toward me.
That’s what he looked like, a large, wild cat on the prowl, like a lion, or tiger, who’d caught sight of his prey and was about to pounce.
I sat completely still, frozen, my thoughts scattered as his well-formed chest grew near.
“Can I see?” he asked, and I was so transfixed that what he asked didn’t immediately register, and Jed had my sketch book out of my hands before I could protest.
When I realized what he was doing, I stood up and tried to grab the book back.
“No, wait, it isn’t…” before I could say finished, he turned and looked pointedly at me as he flipped through the pages I’d just drawn.
“These are all of my face,” Jed said, his voice low.
I felt the blush spreading down my face, over my neck and under my shirt.
“Yes,” I admitted softly.
“If all you’re doing is drawing my face, why did you need me to take off my shirt?” He sounded honestly confused, and my embarrassment became so overwhelming that I thought I might actually die.
I saw the change in his eyes the moment he realized what I’d done but, needing to be brave and own up for my behavior, I jutted out my chin and told him truthfully, “I just wanted to see what you looked like without a shirt.”
His jaw dropped, a choked sound came out, and then he started laughing so hard that one hand gripped his beautifully toned stomach and tears started coming out of his eyes.
Seeing my opportunity, I reached out and snatched my sketch book back, then closed it and tucked it under my arm. Utterly humiliated, I turned and started walking to the door, eager to escape and go hide in my house … preferably under my covers.
“Hey, where are you going?” Jed asked, then I felt his arms circle my waist as he pulled me back against his chest.
His warm, hard, nakedchest.
“Home,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even. “It’s late and I have to get up early tomorrow.”