His dark eyes holding her gaze, Clint pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. In one smooth movement he took off the thermal undershirt. Her breath caught in her throat. “I just want to look at you for a moment. You are beautiful.” And he was. It was the upper body of a man who worked and worked out. Broad muscled shoulders, well-defined biceps, a chest that rippled with definition down to a flat belly. All of this covered by possibly the most beautiful expanse of skin she’d ever seen. Due to his native heritage, he was naturally several shades darker than she was, somewhere between the richness of mocha and café au lait. The very sight of his bare chest made her ache and the wetness between her thighs dampened her panties. She reached out and drew a finger over the ridge of his shoulder to his pectorals. The texture of his smooth warm skin sent a shiver through her. Leaning forward she inhaled his scent and then followed the same path of her finger with her lips and her tongue, kissing his skin, tasting him.
