I was a woman obsessed. Not with Brody, though he did look positively delicious lying naked on my bed, his arms tucked under his cheek and his delightful ass bared to the world. His hair played over the muscles of his back, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. No, what had me transfixed was the way his pulse ticked away in the long column of his throat. Thump. Thump. Thump. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. “You gotta stop looking at me like I’m breakfast,” he grumbled, and my eyes shot to his face. Whoops. Busted.
