Changing Beauty (The Deadly Beauties Live On 2)

He’s really unnaturally perfect. It’s hard to even notice the array of animal tattoos on his chest and stomach anymore because my eyes are… Well, they’re trained on one thing because I’m a pervert who is acting like I’ve never seen a man naked before.

To be fair, I’ve never seen a man that looks like him naked before.

“I went for a run. I had just gotten back when you showed up,” he says without shame, grabbing a pair of jeans from the sofa when he reaches the living room.

Without an ounce of modesty, he tugs his jeans on right in front of me, and I continue being a total pervert, unable to look away. Did he really bypass underwear?

Once his ungodly perfect body is partially clad by the very lucky jeans, I continue staring at his covered crotch. So pathetic. Am I seriously licking my lips?

“Should we go check out this pipe problem you have?” he asks, a mocking lilt to his voice.

Swallowing hard, I give up on talking and nod.

He snickers while bending forward and grabbing the sides of my arms gently. He’s touching me. Great. I’ll never breathe again. Apparently breathing rights went away with speaking rights.

With barely any exerted effort, he pulls me up from the ground. Then, to make things all the more embarrassing, he thumbs my chin before saying, “So damn sweet.”

Freaking eh. My legs won’t work now.

He turns and walks out, and I stagger and sway behind him on my rubbery legs. He really should come with a warning label.

“You okay?” he asks, clearly still mocking me with that damn cheeky grin of his.

“Fine,” I snap, ignoring the heat in my cheeks when he snickers again.

He opens my front door for me, and ushers me into my home, but as soon as he hears the high pitch squeal from the kitchen, he’s racing by me. Oh no. My floors are absolutely covered in water. There’s no telling how much damage is being done.

“Oh shit,” he says on a long breath, at the same time Jenny looks up and sees him and says, “Oh damn,” very breathily.

I really don’t like the way she’s looking at him right now.

“You really do have a pipe problem,” he says more to himself than to me.

He thought I was lying? Why would I make that up?

He kneels, and Jenny sighs dreamily as she watches with unveiled lust. His muscles flex as he angles his body and ducks under the cabinet. I watch—mostly because I can’t look away—as he twists the stubborn metal bolt thingy while holding the bottom pieces of the pipe together.

“That’s not normal, is it?” I ask, trying to focus on the problem and not his bare upper half or bare feet. Really? Even his feet are sexy? “All the water, I mean,” I add, only drowning in my rambling state.

“Not quite this much,” he says casually, twisting the pipe again, and suddenly the unlicensed fountain stops.

There’s no way he just did that with his bare hands.

He backs out from under the sink, a cocky grin playing on his lips, and he winks at me. His body is soaked, including his hair, and he looks like he’s dripping sex. So. Not. Fair.

He runs a hand through his wet hair, and Jenny leans back against the wall to admire him as he stands back up. Yep. She’s sighing. And drooling.

“All fixed, sweet girl. Now what’s my reward for being so neighborly?”

He grabs a towel from the dry side of the counter, and starts wiping his face down. My entire body is on fire now that my sink isn’t hosing me down.

“How… how did you do that?” I ask instead of answering him. “We both pulled on that wrench and the bolt didn’t budge.”

He smirks. The cocky blonde Adonis smirks.

“Firstly,” he says, picking up the large wrench, “this is called a channel lock—not a wrench. Secondly, the bolt is actually a slip nut, and it just needed a little elbow grease. These pipes are outdated and metal, and you have crooked joints. You might want to look into updating your plumbing. This house is old.”

He tosses the towel to the counter, and he slowly struts toward me.