Page 31 of Make Me Yours

It’s official. Steele is a perfect specimen of a man.

Instead of backing away, my gaze dips lower.

Because how can Inotlook at his ass?

It’s so freaking perfect.

A shiver works through me, and I stare so hard, there’s no way that every nuance of his backside won’t be imprinted upon my memory for the rest of my life.

It’s just so muscular.

The urge to reach out and stroke my hands over him is so damn strong. I haven’t felt this punch of arousal in…

Maybe never.

My thighs unconsciously clench, and I’m struck with the realization that my panties are soaked.

The last thing I should be doing is standing here and drooling over him.

I’m probably breaking a dozen unspoken friend rules.

His biceps bulge and flex as he dries his hair, turning just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his front. Even though I tell myself not to look, my gaze zeroes in on the thick length of his cock nestled against dark hair. He might not be hard, but he’s still impossibly big.

Hung.

Oh myGod, did I just think that?

My brain chooses that moment to malfunction.

Maybe it’s because I can’t seem to rip my gaze away even as I silently scream at myself to do it. Or maybe it’s because I’m rooted to the spot, drinking him in like I’ve been starved for the sight of him.

That’s the exact moment Steele meets my gaze in the mirror, and my stomach drops. Heat rushes through me. His expression shifts, and surprise gives way to something darker.

Hungrier.

My face flames so hot, it feels like it’s on fire.

It takes effort to jumpstart my brain into action as I stumble back a step. “Oh. Uh. I?—”

In one swift movement, Steele fastens the towel around his waist. “Is there something you needed, Lilah?”

How he manages to sound so casual, as if me standing here gawking at him is nothing out of the ordinary, I have no idea. But I still catch the way his eyes burn with an intensity I’ve never seen in them before.

My mouth opens and then closes like I’m a fish gasping for its last dying breath.

“I… uh… your schedule,” I finally blurt, waving the tablet like it has the power to save me from the humiliating moment playing out between us.

“What about it?” He steps toward me, closing the distance with easy, deliberate strides.

My brain short-circuits.

It’s completely blank.

And it doesn’t help that Steele smells like fresh soap and skin, still damp from the shower, completely unbothered by the fact I just walked in on him.

I need to retreat.

Now.