“Dominic reached behind his head and tugged on his T-shirt. The rising fabric revealed his abdomen. And yeah, he liked the way her gaze followed the hemline. But his arm stilled, his bicep taut and his T-shirt covering his hair. If he kept going, she’d see the damaged skin on his chest from where the bullet had entered.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “My scars aren’t pretty.”
“I promise to focus on your abs,” she murmured without looking up. “And lower.”