Page 42 of Fraud
What have I done?
But I was clearly failing miserably.
Killian obviously had no body hang-ups whatsoever because, the second he was turned away from me, he began to strip.
Layer by layer.
I was instantly entranced. My body refused to move as I watched him peel off his long-sleeved shirt, revealing miles and miles of sleek muscles.
I wondered what all that would feel like against my tongue.
He walked a little farther down the beach, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans. But that didn’t last long.
The moment his feet hit the wet sand, he stopped.
A chill went down my spine as he slowly removed his jeans.
“Holy—” I whispered under my breath.
If his ass was any indication of what had yet to be revealed in the front, I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
“Waiting,” he hollered as his toes met the sea.
No time like the present.
Feeling completely on display, despite the darkness surrounding me, I got to work.
I should have been cold.
Downright freezing.
But, as I lifted my shirt, feeling the brisk air hit my bare skin, nothing but flames ran through my veins, fueling my every move.
Dear God, this was stupid.
Reckless.
Insane.
And completely exhilarating.
My heart raced as I ditched the last piece of my clothing. Looking left and right for anyone who might still be lingering on the beach, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when I realized we were the only two left.
But it still didn’t stop me from stashing my clothes under a grocery bag for safekeeping.
I’d seen enough movies to know what happened to naked people who had left their clothes out, unattended.
I might be feeling adventurous tonight, but the idea of sitting in Killian’s rental, completely nude, as he drove me home because some idiot had stolen my clothes sounded a bit like hell to me.
“Did you chicken out?” Killian’s deep voice boomed over the waves.
I looked up, realizing I hadn’t moved an inch.
“No,” I answered rather proudly.
For once, I actually hadn’t chickened out.
Now, all I had to do was take the first step.
Here goes nothing.
