“You didn’t look like a corpse when you were in deep rest before,” I answered him right back in Korean. Legs weak, I eased to the ground.
“That wasn’t a deep rest; that was a normal rest. I knew they weren’t going to come back until they brought you, and I knew they weren’t going to kill you or do anything to me yet. I took advantage of the time.” A little growl formed in his throat. “I didn’t think you were going to stick your whole hand down my damn throat.”
The hand I didn’t have against my chest, the one he’d thrown up on, I set on the ground so I wouldn’t be tempted to use it. “How the hell was I supposed to know?” I wiped at my face again. “You scared the shit out of me. That’s what you get for ignoring me.” And that was what I got for jumping to conclusions.
Son of a bitch.
He gave me a terrible glare before his eyes finally flicked down, as if noticing that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Or maybe he was finally noticing that I had boobs.
The Defender’s gaze moved back up toward my face.
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Then he grunted something under his breath before slowly sitting up, wincing as he did. But once he was in a seated position, his gaze was steady on mine as his hands went to his hoodie and he unzipped it.
Part of me expected him to hand it over once he’d peeled it off, but he set it aside and let his hands drop back toward his waist.
And that’s when he pulled the shirt up over his head and tossed it.
It hit me in the face.
By the time I pulled it off, he was pulling the hoodie back on, zipping it up over his abs, then the rest of him.
Even with my head on the verge of bursting, I’d gotten a good look ateverything.
Including his chest.
Thechest.
The chest to end all chests.
I’d noticed it was a nice one before, but I hadn’t appreciated just how magnificent it really was.
His shoulders were just as broad as they looked in the unforgivable suit that I had a feeling he’d completely eviscerated since there hadn’t even been ashes anywhere after he’d taken it off. The amount of muscle mass—all defined and impressive—shouldn’t have been surprising. Because again, the suit hugged everything. But it still caught me off guard. He was shredded. Striations lined his shoulders, his biceps were a work of art, even his forearms deserved a symphony for how perfectly they were covered with hair.
There were also his pectorals and thick, solid abs, which were also covered with a sprinkling of dark hair.
He glared at me for about the millionth time. “Would you close your mouth?”
I closed it and glared right back. “Nobody told you to strip,Magic Mike, and I didn’t say anything when you were looking at my boobs a second ago. You could’ve just given me the hoodie instead of getting naked.”
He finished raising the zipper as high as it would go, right between the notches of his collarbones, giving me a long, long look as he did it. “It’s easier for me to hide my eyes with the hoodie, if I have to,” he grumbled in Portuguese.
Oh.
That made sense.
He switched back to English. “Are you done crying now?”
I shrugged.
“You done fingering my throat?”
My face burned. “You can only blame yourself for that. I was trying to save your life.”
