Because he’s shirtless.
In fact, he looks like he just stepped from the shower because his hair is wet. And his chest is bare. I can’t help but stare at the bare skin, the muscled abdomen, the lithe torso, and the perfect, chiseled V that disappears into the top of his jeans. A silver belt buckle shaped like a skull is positioned perfectly-centered a few inches beneath his belly button.
I swallow hard, then swallow again.
The corner of Dare’s mouth twitches.
“Yes?” he asks, his lip curling at the corner. He has to know the effect he has on me. He probably has it on everyone.
I swear to God my intention is to ask him to go to Warrenton Beach. But my tongue has a mind of its own.
“Draw me,” I breathe, surprising me and surprising him. His eyes widen, and he stares at me.
“Draw you,” he repeats slowly, hesitantly, his eyes never leaving mine.
I nod. “You’ve drawn me from your imagination, but wouldn’t a real model be better?”
Without waiting for a reply and before I can think the better of it, I nudge past him and enter his little house. He stares at me, his eyes like black molten lava, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out how to handle me. So before he can say anything, I turn, forcing a confident grin.
“Where do you want me?”
Don’t reject me. That’s all I can think as I stare at his gorgeous face, and I must be crazy because there’s no way he’s going to do this.
“Calla,” he says huskily, his tongue darting out to lick his full bottom lip.
“Don’t,” I interrupt him before he can turn me away. “Draw me, Dare. I want you to.”
He stands as still as a statue, studying me, his body so long and lean.
“Please,” I add finally, my whisper husky. “Where do you want me?”
I count the beats as he stares at me, as he ponders me.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Fi--
“Just a minute,” he finally answers, interrupting my internal counting, his eyes black as night.
He crosses the room and pulls a chaise lounge to the middle of the living room.
“You can sit there.”
He sounds so professional. I do as he asks, and I perch on the edge of the seat, my nerves dancing along my skin, disbelief pulsing through me.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to do it.
“Close the blinds,” I tell him softly, as I unbutton my shirt.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
I can’t believe he’s letting me.