Page 47 of Wood Riddance
“Yes, you did. You said, and I quote, if you want to get naked, I don’t care. Thereby assenting to the suggestion. Take it off.”
“Shoes first,” I protested.
“Nah. That’s dangerous with axes. Shoes stay on.” He jutted his chin at me. “Shirt.”
I was not dressed for strip anything. All I had on was a pair of running shorts and a tank top. I had come out here to blow off steam. Had I known how this night would progress, I would have put on every piece of clothing I owned.
I was fuming. The anger stoked those embers still burning low in my stomach.How dare he?
Except…
I had the power here. And by power, I meant boobs. Because there was no way his beginner’s luck would last if my boobs joined the party.
They weren’t anything particularly special, but he was a man and, therefore, dumb and easily distracted.
“Fine,” I pouted. Then, slowly, and I mean glacially, I pulled up my tank and tossed it over my head. With a smug smirk, I strutted over to the rack of axes.
His gaze seared my skin as I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. My bra was black and relatively simple, but it was sheer. It should have made me feel self-conscious, but I was determined to brazen this out. I would not lose, no matter what it took.
And my plan was working. He had gone silent. Good. Now I could focus on kicking his ass and reminding him that he should know better than to mess with Adele Gagnon.
I turned in his direction, making sure he got the full effect of my Target lingerie before leaning over to carefully choose an axe. They were almost identical. There were variations in each handle, but for the most part, they were unremarkable. He didn’t need to know that, though.
In my periphery, his eyes bulged and he scratched the back of his neck—one of his tells. This smug bastard was going down.
Stepping up to the line, I drew on every ounce of willpower in my body to focus on the target rather than the way his attention traced along my bare skin like a caress. I was going to bury this shit in the bull’s-eye and never look back.
Taking one more breath, I threw and released the axe at the perfect moment, sinking it.
I turned back, wearing a smile laced with malice. “Shirt, Stretch,” I teased. I sauntered to the whiteboard and recorded my six points. But my celebration was short-lived when he started to pull his T-shirt up.
Dammit. I should have said jeans.
He knew I was watching, so he pulled it up slowly, so damn slowly, revealing his muscular, tan, inked torso one inch at a time.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. If the beard and the height and the overall Viking warrior thing hadn’t tipped me off already, his physique would have given it away. He wasallman. Thick and strong, with massive shoulders and pecs dusted with dark-blond hair. And the abs?Fuck,those abs. They were split by a happy trail that led to the waistband of those damn jeans.
“Done checking me out?” he asked, chuckling.
At the call-out, I practically choked on my tongue, and another round of heat engulfed me. This time it was so stifling a bead of sweat dripped down my spine. Whipping around, I busied myself tallying the score, even though we’d only begun the second round.
He threw again, missing the center.
“Four points,” he said. “Since you’re so concerned with scorekeeping.”
We went back and forth for our next few throws. Despite what I’d assumed about his ability, he had clearly thrown before. His technique and strategy were too honed. I’d have to up my game.
On my sixth throw, I hit another bull’s-eye and jumped up and down in celebration.
“Eat shit, Hebert.”
I spun, still bouncing, only to find him hypnotized by my breasts. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were hazy.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Pants.”
Without a word, he stripped off those criminally sexy jeans, leaving him in only the work boots he slipped back on and a pair of boxers. They were blue with yellow rubber duckies on them. Silly and fun and not at all what I had expected.
I diverted my gaze quickly and took in slow, even breaths, not wanting to get distracted. The score was close, but I was ahead. And I still had my shorts on, thank God.
