Page 56 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

I bury my face against his pecs, pushing him down.

He laughs, tugging until I’m lying on his sexy-as-fuck body.

After several sweet minutes of lying on him, his heartbeat a lullaby, I lift my head. “Kingston?”

“Yeah, Twinkle?”

“I have an important question for you.”

His brows pinch in curiosity at my seriousness. “What?”

“When am I going to see you naked?”

He’s speechless a second before he bursts out laughing.

“You’re still clothed,” I complain with a pout. “You promised to show me your tattoos. Unlike you, I want a striptease.”

“I’ll do you one better.”

“What?”

“A striptease and a shower together.”

CHAPTER – 17

Twinkle

Be careful what you wish for.

I thought demanding Kingston to strip for me would be fun, but it’s absolute heavenandhell. Not because he isn’t a sight to behold, but because I’m fighting every impulse to keep my greedy hands to myself.

It doesn’t help that he’s taking his sweet-ass time, as though he was a stripper in another life.

I’m wet and horny all over again because of his sexy and tempting little show.

His tatted hands toy with the hem of his sweater, lifting a little and teasing me with a mouthwatering peek of his washboard abs.

A hint of black ink swirling at the top.

I squirm on the marble countertop.

“Okay there, darling?” he teases cockily, watching me cross my legs.

I open my mouth to retort.

He whips his sweater over his head in one fluid one-handed move.

My lips snap shut, brain short-circuiting.

Jesus Christ!

The size of his barrel chest is intimidating as hell without any fabric hiding it, not an ounce of fat in sight. A light smattering of hair adds to his dark appeal. His cut muscles shift and rise with his deep breaths.

The man is a bronzed and tatted devil.

Artistic and medieval symbols paint both his pecs in a beautiful trail. They swirl around his broad shoulders and travel down his arms.

Is it weird that I want to explore each one with my tongue and rub myself all over them?