A bare chest assaults my vision when I step into the cavernous office. He’s in the process of taking off his long-sleeved shirt. The black fabric falls away to reveal a sculpted chest adorned with scars and weapons. Taut muscles. The faintest sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. My cheeks flush as a wave of heat washes over me. There’s sand in my mouth. I swallow, but it just scrapes its way down my throat. His chest is magnificent. He eyes me without a word. Biceps flex as he tosses the shirt on the conference table. It’s still there. The undeniable attraction that bubbles beneath the
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