When she seemed inclined to linger, he forced his brain to clear.
“Emma.”
“Hmmm.”
“You’re supposed to be doing a job.”
She blinked up at him and stopped her explorations of his chest through his undershirt. The blush she’d held back while he’d examined her naked sprang to her face and he had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Sorry, Sir.”
She yanked her hands from him and moved them to the hem of his shirt, sliding it up his chest with a bit more speed. He raised his arms until she had the shirt clear of his head before he took over the job and dropped the shirt to the chair behind him. Her attention had already refocused on his belt.
Emma wanted to rip the belt from Drew’s pants and get down to business, but she was pretty sure he’d see that as disobeying his orders. Instead
