Joon-ho's fingers were still laced with hers when he began to shift, his eyes never leaving her face. The lamplight played over the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his neck from the day. Without a word, he reached for the hem of his shirt.
Ji-hye's breath caught. She'd seen him in training clothes, even bare-chested before, but something about this moment—about knowing it was for her—made her stomach tighten.
He peeled the shirt over his head, slow enough for the movement to feel deliberate. The muscles in his shoulders rolled under his skin, each cut of his torso catching the light. Her eyes followed the line of his chest down to the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, and she realized her hands were gripping the sheets a little too tightly.
When he moved to undo his belt, her instincts kicked in. "Let me…" she murmured, her fingers brushing his as she stepped in closer.
