Strike Out: Mustangs Baseball #6 Read Online Free Page B

turned around.
    Holy bejesus!
    Tricia reached for the desk behind her. Tossing the box of electrodes on the surface, she gripped the edge with both hands to keep from melting into a puddle of lust. MTS1 was definitely not one of the college subjects she’d tested. Holy crap, they were mere boys compared to the specimen standing before her wearing nothing but socks and the briefest briefs she’d ever seen. Shit. Her panties contained more cloth, or maybe it just seemed that way because his tented outward to cover….
    Oh, Lord.
    “See anything you like?”
    Tricia snapped her gaze away from Royce’s impressive groin so fast her vision clouded. When she focused again, he was grinning at her as if to say, “I know, I’m perfect. Look all you want.” His arrogance was all she needed to remind her who she was and why she was there.
    “No,” she said, forcing her gaze to travel down his magnificent chest, skipping the navy-blue cotton briefs to take in his thick thighs and muscular calves. Stifling a giggle at the hole in the toe of one of his socks, she returned her gaze to his. “On second thought, we can’t do this right now.”
    “Why not?” He actually sounded peeved she wasn’t going to wire him up today then put him through his paces, though she conceded, he didn’t really have any idea what awaited him. He’d know soon enough.
    She risked sliding to the floor by releasing her grip on the desk to wave a hand at his admittedly perfect body. “You’ll have to shave first.”
    He rubbed his jaw, his eyes reflecting his confusion. “I shaved this morning.”
    Scratch checking T levels. No problem there. “I mean, you’ll have to shave…or wax….” She waved her hand up and down. “All of it. Chest. Legs. Arms.”
    “You’re fuckin’ kidding me!” His biceps flexed as he placed his fisted hands on his hips.
    She’d never told a subject to shave before, but then again, she’d never had one with so much body hair. Christ. He wasn’t a bear or anything, but jeez, if she attached the pads to him, they would be hell to get off. “I’m not kidding.” Finding her equilibrium in her superior knowledge on this subject, she reached for the box she’d dropped. Opening it, she pulled out an individually wrapped package, tore it open, and held the object up for his inspection. “These are like adhesive bandages.”
    She pulled off the paper backing, showing him the sticky side of the pad. “I can put these on you, but you won’t like it when they come off. It’ll hurt like hell.”
    His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Pleased he’d, at last, come to his senses and would voluntarily do some hair removal, she was surprised when he just stood there.
    “Well?” she asked.
    “Well, what?”
    “Aren’t you going to go shave?”
    “No.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    He looked taken aback by the shrillness in her voice, and truth be told, it concerned her, too. But god or not, the man’s lack of cooperation was getting to her. Nevertheless, she needed him, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Sorry. What I meant to say was, I don’t want to hurt you. Body hair won’t affect my research, as long as the pads adhere tight enough, and I’m sure they will. My concern is for you.”
    She didn’t think he could make himself look more stoic, but he did, squaring his shoulders and fixing her with a stern look that dared her to question his manhood again.
    “I’ve worn bandages before.” He didn’t even flinch as he said it.
    “Okay, then.” She peeled the backing off the pad in her hand, and slapped it against his chest directly above his left nipple. The muscles were hard as rock beneath skin she found surprisingly warm. A smile formed in her mind, but she wouldn’t let it show on her face. The skin beneath the pad she’d just applied, and the next one attached to his right pectoral, was very sensitive. He was going to cry like a baby when she pulled those off.
    He stood still as a