Your name
653 Words
When I reached the back room, I pushed open the door, flicking on the overhead light.
The space was tiny, practically a closet itself, occupied only by a neatly made twin bed, a small desk, and a metal wardrobe tucked into the corner.
"Sam usually keeps some clean flannels in here…" I babbled, stepping inside. I was acutely aware of how small the room was now that a man built like a heavy-duty pickup truck was standing in it. "They might be a little wide on the shoulders, but at least they're dry, and…”
I turned around and the rest of my sentence died in my throat.
He had already taken off his shirt.
The ruined, dripping black fabric lay discarded on a nearby chair.
Without it, he was entirely, devastatingly magnificent. Broad, sculpted shoulders led down to a deeply corded chest. His skin was golden and flawless, gleaming with droplets of water under the harsh overhead bulb.
My mouth watered. My eyes shamelessly tracked a single drop of water as it rolled over the hard ridge of his pectoral muscle, traced the sharp, deep cuts of his six-pack and vanished below the wet waistband of his dark jeans.
"See something you like?" He murmured. His voice carried a dark, velvety rumble that sent a sudden, electric shock straight to my core.
"I... I found you a shirt…" I stammered, grabbing a blue plaid flannel from the shelf and holding it up like a shield. My heart was pounding so hard I was terrified he could hear it.
He didn't reach for the clothes. Instead, his dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with an intensity that made my knees feel dangerously weak. He took a slow step forward.
The room instantly felt ten times smaller.
I backed up, but my shoulders immediately hit the metal wardrobe.
There was nowhere left to go.
He took another step, invading my personal space.
The scent of him… clean rain, dark musk and something uniquely, dangerously masculine enveloped me.
He was so close I could feel the intense heat rolling off his bare skin.
He raised his arms and I stopped breathing altogether.
But he didn't take the flannel.
Instead, his hands settled heavily on my waist.
My breath hitched violently in my throat. His long fingers spread out, gripping my hips possessively. With one smooth, effortless motion, he pulled me forward, erasing the final inch of space between u
My soft stomach collided directly with the rock-hard plane of his naked torso.
A fierce shiver ripped through my entire body. The raw heat from his skin seared right through the thin cotton of my faded T-shirt.
It was a blinding, rushing fire that made my toes curl in my boots and sent a heavy, liquid warmth pooling directly between my thighs.
"You are trembling…" he noted, his thumbs tracing slow circles into the soft curve of my waist.
"You... you need to put the shirt on…" I breathed. My voice was a weak, airy whisper, betraying the confident mechanic I had been five minutes ago.
He didn't move away. He didn't even look at the shirt in my trembling hands.
Instead, he leaned down. The damp strands of his dark hair brushed against my cheek as he buried his face into the sensitive curve of my neck.
I felt the incredibly light, agonizingly slow graze of his lips against my jaw.
“What… what do you want?” My eyes fluttered shut. My hands gripped the flannel so tightly my knuckles turned white.
He dragged his nose along my jawline, inhaling deeply, tracing a path of pure fire until his mouth hovered just an inch away from my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a cascade of goosebumps erupting down my arms.
"Your name." He whispered softly, the deep vibration of his voice soaking straight into my skin. “I want your name.”
- Writer
