I bend down, unzip my suitcase, and pull out my toiletries bag. When I straighten up, Tyler’s back is to me, and he’s pulling his shirt over his head. My eyes inadvertently skim over his hard muscles, my traitorous body heating. The muscles in his forearm twitch as he unzips his fly. I should turn away, but I’m unable to tear my gaze away. He’s slowly shoving the hips of his jeans down in the same teasing fashion a stripper would. I swallow. My heart rate kicks up a notch. He glances over his shoulder and catches me blatantly gawking at him. “You looking at my ass or that stain?”
