Page 72 of Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

Haze grins and proceeds to do the one thing I did not expect. He tugs at his shirt and removes it with absolutely no shame.

Don’t look at his abs.

Don’t look at his abs.

Don’t look at his a… Dang it.

My cheeks heat up when I take in every inch of his Adonis body. My wandering gaze can’t seem to stay in one place, drifting from his pecs, to his biceps, to his obliques, to his six-pack.

Don’t even get me started on his six-pack.

He’s… infuriatingly hot.

Street fighting and training close to every single day will do that to you. It’s hard to believe he’s only eighteen. According to what Kendrick said, he’s been training with his brother ever since he was fourteen years old. Well, it shows.

I giggle nervously, looking away. “I didn’t mean right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my sexiness making you uncomfortable?” He smirks, stepping closer.

My pulse quickens with every step. As the distance between us decreases, my ability to breath does, too.

“Is there a better way to react to someone stripping in front of me?”

He laughs, staring right through my soul.

“There are many ways to react to someone stripping in front of you.”

Barely four steps separate us now.

The cockiness drains from his face and is replaced by something darker, eager. I know that look. I know that lust.

Three steps.

His gaze drops to my lips

Two steps.

For the first time, he doesn’t rip his eyes away. He stares. Hard.

One step.

He stops, refusing to take the last step. We both know that would be taking us to the next step, as well. We don’t move a muscle, looking at each other in silence. My head is a freaking whirlwind. His eyes say that it’s up to me. That he won’t make a move unless I want him to. Do I want him to?

Yes, you do.

Shut up, voice of reason.

I have no idea why I do it. Why I take the last step. Maybe it’s the four drinks running in my veins, or maybe it’s my heart and its annoying tendency to disagree with my brain.

His breath lightly fans my lips. He smells like mint. I’m confident that my heart is going to burst out of my chest any second when he lifts his hand and cups my face gently. I shiver at the touch, welcoming the warmth of his skin.

He leans forward, his lips dangerously close to mine…

“Who left a trail of water around the house?”

I jerk away from him in a sudden move. It’s like coming out of a trance. Or waking up from a dream.

A really, really good dream.