Page 39 of When He Lies
He began to strip.
He jerked off his white dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. He’d long since lost his bow tie someplace, and she could not remember where or when he’d ditched that. But when the shirt hit the floor, her gaze locked on the broad, powerful expanse of his back.
He opened the glass shower door. Yanked on the water.
He backed up to kick away his shoes and ditch his socks, and then his hands went to the waist of his pants.
Do not stop now.
Her body had inched toward the right wall of the tub. She turned on her side, a better position to hide herself, and her hand curled around the tub’s top as she peeked at him.
Oh, yum.
He had tattoos. He should not have tattoos. Not. Ryan should have been buttoned up and boring, but…
Her spy was not boring.
He was not some silver-spoon-in-his-mouth, rich tycoon. He did not spend his days behind a desk or yachting around the world. He had muscles and abs for days, and the most badass, gorgeous tattoos imaginable.
Especially that dragon on his arm. Those claws. Those scales.
Simone bit her lower lip. She’d always had a weakness for a man with tats.
“You’re not looking at my eyes, Simone,” he rasped.
“No, I am not.” A click as she swallowed. “Nice tats.” There was more ink on his chest. Dark. Twisting. Gorgeous.
“These are actually my real ones.”
Her brows rose. “As opposed to the fake ones that you have?”
“Sometimes I get fake ones for jobs. When the job is done, they fade away.”
Interesting. “I’m glad the dragon is legit. Because if it were to vanish, I’d be so disappointed.”
“You got a thing for dragons?”
She had a thing for hot badasses who killed for her. Stop it, woman. Stop. “I like it when a person can handle, ah, hot situations.”
“Fuck.”
Oh, but she was tempted to do just that. Except that fucking Ryan would only lead to more trouble. “You can’t shower with your pants on.” An obvious point. She was quite curious to see the rest of the show. Do not stop now.
“Thought you promised not to look.”
She had turned more on her side so that her breasts were pressed against the wall of the tub. From his angle, she thought he could only see the curve of her hip. Her fingers gripped the edge of the tub as she lifted her head up a little more. “I said I could promise not to do that. I didn’t actually make the promise.” But if he wanted to be a party pooper… “Shall I look away?”
“I’m not shy.” He unbuttoned his pants. Unzipped.
She might have held her breath.
His pants and a pair of black boxers hit the floor.
Wow.
He was…
“Good show,” she whispered.
