Shirtless.

And he was perfection.

My eyes took him in hungrily. As I expected, he was ripped. All muscles. Biceps, shoulders, pecs. As if carved from marble. And the ridges of his abs… I had a very strong urge to run my tongue between them.

On closer inspection, I saw them. The scars. Not a lot, but enough. Enough scars marring the smooth, solid skin of his torso. Scars that communicated he had lived a violent life. That he had been in situations where people were trying to kill him.

My heart bled for him, for the man who’d had to experience that and come back to a family that loved him but wouldn’t understand what he’d become.

I swallowed, thinking about all of that while still taking in his naked torso.

His jeans were unbuttoned, and he looked like he was just about to step out of them.

I licked my lips.

“Gotta stop doin’ that, cupcake,” Rowan said as he closed the distance between us, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb.

“Doing what?” I whispered.

“Looking at me like that.” He grasped my hips, pulling our bodies flush together. “Makes me want to fuck you right here on this floor.”

It was a good thing he was holding on to me because I didn’t quite trust my legs to hold me up after that little statement.

“I wouldn’t be… adverse to that,” I replied, my voice rough and full of need.

“Neither would I,” he murmured as he yanked me even closer to show how much he wanted that. Me.

Need coiled through me.

“But you’re dead on your feet, cupcake,” he continued, smoothing back some hair on my face. “You were up before the sun today, on your feet all day, and I’ve got a hunch you got about as much sleep as I did last night because I was imagining this.” He pressed his lips against mine. Soft at first, but then harder, hungrier.

I met his need with a hot hunger of my own.

Rowan leaned back, hands biting into my hips with a mixture of pleasure and pain. “I’ll tell you that my imagination pales in comparison to the real thing.”

My lips were swollen, my heart thundering, and my body his to command, despite the exhaustion creeping to all of my limbs.

“I want you, bad right now, Nora,” he murmured against my lips. “But I want you rested. Because later, I’ll want you up for hours. Want to take my time with you.” His hand skimmed down my side. “Want to learn every inch of your body.”

My breathing was quick and shallow as Rowan’s hard-on pressed into my stomach.

“I have a feeling that no matter how late I’d keep you up tonight, you’d get up at the ass crack of dawn.”

I nodded slowly. “Of course, I would.”

Though I wouldn’t like it, though my day would likely suck—because he was right, I didn’t get any sleep the night before and would be a zombie after two nights without rest—and getting in late wasn’t an option. I took pride in my business, my bakery.