Tomboy (The Hartigans #3)(37)

His gaze dipped down to her mouth before raising back up. “Without a doubt.”

Fucking A. This was her last moment to walk away, clear the front door, and drive off in her car. On so many levels this was just about the dumbest thing she could do. He was Zach effing Blackburn, and she was a nurse from working-class Waterbury with a bitchy attitude who wouldn’t know her way around a Sephora or a Victoria’s Secret if she had a map. If she gave more than thirty seconds’ thought to what the women he usually slept with looked like, she’d be out the door. It sucked to admit it, and she’d never say it out loud, but, yeah, sometimes that comparison thing snuck through her defenses at the worst fucking time.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but it doesn’t look good,” he said, his low voice warm and smooth like honey. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to worry about protecting my feelings.”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

“Thank God,” he said, toying with the end of her braid again.

But still, he didn’t take it any further. Part of her kind of wished he’d make the next move. But he wasn’t going to. For one night only, this was her show—and if that was how it was going to be, then so be it.

“I want to see you naked,” she said, her hands sneaking up underneath the hem of his T-shirt, pushing it higher.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been for him to take two steps back, leaving her hands just hovering in the air instead of pressed against the hard muscle of his abs. Her huff of complaint was barely past her lips before he reached down and whipped off his shirt.

Thank God for the wall behind her because, even though she’d seen his bare chest before, it wasn’t with the knowledge that she was about to get to touch it. That made a difference. She couldn’t explain it exactly, but the taking of things from theoretical to real made her feel like she was on the top peak of a roller coaster, unsure if the safety bar was going to keep her safe. Unsettling? Hell yes. Enough to make her want to stop? Fuck no—especially not when she couldn’t look away from him.

Zach’s shoulders were broad and strong, colorful tattoos covered his pecs and one arm all the way down to his elbow, and the soft overhead foyer light caught on the metal bars piercing his nipples. As he kicked off his shoes, her gaze dropped lower to the lined perfection of his abs and the sparse happy trail that disappeared behind his jeans.

“Like what you see?” he asked, bringing his fingers up to the button of his jeans.

Rolling her tongue back up in her mouth, because a woman had to have her pride, she crossed her arms and gave him as much attitude as she could at the moment, considering her nipples were about to poke holes through her shirt. “Has anyone ever answered no to that?”

His only answer was a cocky grin as he popped his jeans’ button open and then slid his zipper down.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand she wasn’t breathing. It wasn’t a choice. It was just simple reality. The anticipation was going to kill her dead before she ever got her hands back on the man. Her obit would read: Horny Nurse Done in By Hot Man’s Zipper.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get more intense, Zach shoved his jeans down, revealing thick thighs and calves that would make a soccer player envious and made her mouth go dry. Then there was the part of him still covered by a pair of black briefs. She’d never found that style particularly sexy before. Then again, she’d never seen Zach in only a pair of briefs that did nothing to hide how much he was packing.

All the air that had been pent up in her lungs escaped with a whoosh as she leaned against the wall for support. She knew exactly how much work went into being in shape enough to grace the cover of ESPN’s body issue, but that didn’t make it any less impressive.

He let out a sexy-but-way-too-overconfident chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes, you like the view very much.”

The man was an egomaniac. And he was telling the truth. Dammit. “I don’t know,” she said, trying to take all the oh-fuck-me-now out of her voice. “I haven’t seen everything yet. The rest could be a disappointment.”

“Could be,” he said, about as humbly as a guy so obviously blessed could. “There’s only one way to find out.”

And with that, he did a quick pivot away from her as he shoved his briefs down and then started down the hallway toward his bedroom, giving her the perfect view of his ass, if not his hard cock. The man was a teasing pain in her butt. Of course, it was kinda hard to remember that when she was looking at his ass. Talk about perfection. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to stare at it, kiss it, or smack it—chances were, though, that she’d have plenty of opportunities for all three tonight.

“Where are you going?” Because she needed him right now, preferably within touching distance.

“To my room,” he said, barely slowing his steps. “You’ve gotta make this call, Fallon. You want me as much as I want you, but you’ve got to own it.” Then he disappeared into his bedroom. “Oh, and Fallon,” he said from the other room. “You better be bare-ass naked when you get here.”

Who was he to strut around all naked and hot and be all bossy? That wasn’t how she rolled. She was the one in charge. She made the calls. She fought the wars—and won. But when it came to the battle of smart decisions versus a one-night stand with Zach Blackburn? It wasn’t even a stalemate. She was going down, and she’d enjoy every licking, tasting, and touching moment of it.