The damage between us is already done.
TWENTY
Lexi
The next morning, I’m bracing myself for the usual long haul camped outside Connor’s office, but to my surprise, his assistant gives me the green light to head on in. That’s a first.
As I get closer, I hear music seeping out from under his slightly open office door.
I knock hard. “Connor?”
Silence.
I push the door open and step in cautiously. “Hello? It’s Lex—”
My voice trails off when the bathroom door flies open, and a freshly showered Connor strides into view, wearing nothing but a towel slung criminally low on his carved hips.
I freeze as we lock eyes, my gaze involuntarily sweeping down his bare torso to that precarious towel line hinting at dark hair below.
Damn.
Now that’s a man right there. Six feet something of raw, muscular male in the flesh. He may work out, but those muscles are all natural, like he’s spent his entire life chopping wood in the wilderness and wrestling bears for fun.
A mix of desire and embarrassment crashes over me, and we stand in charged silence.
I can practically hear his arrogant amusement in my head.See something you like?His lifted brow taunts me.
Oh, absolutely.
I want to lick the water droplets off those abs like a dirty horny hoe.
I can’t be trapped in here withthatbarely clothed. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.
I do my best not to ogle the eye-catching tattoo sprawled across his chest. The design is a maze of bold, dark lines forming knots and curves, centered around a fierce-looking wolf. Definitely has some tribal or maybe Celtic vibes going on, probably because of his Irish American heritage.
“I can come back,” I stammer, already inching backward even as every hormone in my body screams otherwise. “I knocked pretty loud, but you probably didn’t catch it over the music.”
“It’s fine, come in,” he says, voice sounding oddly rough. “I’m running late.”
Could it be that Connor Quinn, Mr. Always-In-Control, is actually thrown off by me walking in on him like this?
Something thrills wildly inside at seeing his breath coming just a little too fast, color creeping up that strong neck.
I wet my dry lips, willing sensible speech to return before I do something truly reckless. Like grabbing that flimsy towel and giving it a firm yank southward. I bet he’s big everywhere. I felt it at the photo shoot. Proportional to the rest of his hulking frame. It makes sense. The man is built like a giant oak tree, so of course he has a massive trunk to match.
Thankfully before I can execute that plan and get myself fired (or possibly arrested for sexual assault), Connor stridesover to the stereo and kills the music, leaving the room filled with the sound of my awkwardly loud breathing. Smooth, Lexi.
“Is this another ploy to torture me?” I try to joke, fighting the urge to let my gaze wander. Eyes. Up.
He laughs, a bit huskier than usual. “Not this time. You’re the one who waltzed in here unannounced.”
“Your assistant told me to come right in!”
One brow arches. “I doubt that.”
Damn, did she set me up?
“But you’re here now,” he says, voice dipping lower. “Give me a minute,” he informs me, disappearing into the steamy bathroom. I can’t help staring at his sculpted back muscles. And yeah, that towel does wonders for his backside.
