Hunter’s eyes stayed locked on Mirabella as her trembling fingers reached for the hem of his shirt. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She peeled his shirt upward slowly, her fingertips brushing over his hard stomach as the fabric rose. His skin was warm, smooth over rippling muscles, and she swallowed thickly when the shirt finally cleared over his head.
Hunter smirked lazily, watching her with dark, hungry eyes. “That’s my good girl,” he said in a low growl, taking the shirt from her hand and tossing it aside.
Mirabella’s fingers moved low and hesitated at the waistband of his trousers. His gaze sharpened, and his voice came out low and commanding. “Go on. Take it all off.”
She fumbled with the button of his fly, then slid the zipper down, her knuckles grazing
