My entire body flushes because… damn, Kaz Lindström shirtless is a work of art.
Six foot four inches of pure muscle.
I’m sure I’m invading his privacy in so many different ways because I shouldn’t be ogling him like this, but my feet are glued to the floor.
I clamp my thighs together. This is fifty shades of wrong, but I’m beyond turned on by the sight of him looking like a Roman gladiator.
I let out a breathy hiss, fighting the urge to run back to my room to take care of my neglected pussy—something I haven’t done in so long, I can’t remember the last time I played with my clit. I’m sure if I keep clamping my thighs together, I could come just by salivating all over him.
My eyes roam over his chiseled body and they widen when they land on his muscular bicep. The tattoo of a warrior Viking is menacing and alluring at the same time. From this angle, I can’t tell if he has a tattoo on his right arm, but if he does, I’m sure it’s badass.
No wonder his grandmother gave him a Slavic name that means ‘destroyer of peace’ borne by kings and princes.
The sight of him looking broody and feral is definitely destroying my panties.
My attention shifts to the dummy he’s whacking with a stick.
It’s like he’s fighting an enemy.
Damn. The man is intense in everything he does.
Kaz moves around the dummy, allowing me a chance to read the slogan on the dummy’s oversized black t-shirt––‘Make it hurt’.
Kaz swivels around and does a roundhouse kick, nearly decapitating the dummy.
I shuffle back a few steps.
Whoa.
When he lands on both feet, he’s staring straight at me.
I blink.
I blink again.
My gaze is fixated to the smattering of chest hair.
So yummy.
My eyes lower.
Those shorts that cover the essentials, showcase his V muscles and a tempting happy trail.
God.
He places a hand at his waist and changes his stance.
My eyes bounce up to meet his.
He’s sporting an expression of annoyance. Exasperation. Grumpiness.
I disrupted his workout.
I plaster a huge smile on my face and wave. “Good morning.” From the other side of the glass, he can only read my lips.
For a few breaths, he studies me, his massive, sweaty chest heaving.
He waves me in.
