My Webtoon Hero Is the CEO Next Door novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: The Model Sits

Jin-woo climbed over the panel behind her, which was harder for a man his height than it had been for her.

He caught one foot on the railing and swore under his breath, and she laughed so hard she had to lean on the glass door.

"Don't laugh at the owner of your platform," he said.

"You're on my balcony."

"Then show me your studio."

She slid the door open and pulled him in by the front of his shirt.

Her apartment was one long room, with a drafting table under the window and a floor covered in paper.

Soo-ah's color swatches hung from a string across the ceiling.

There was a sleeping bag in the corner, a rice cooker on the shelf, and one very bright drafting lamp on a swing arm.

She switched on the lamp and turned it toward the middle of the floor.

"Stand there," she said.

He stood in the circle of white light with his hands at his sides.

"Take your shirt off."

He looked at her for a moment.

Then he undid the buttons slowly, one at a time, with his eyes on her mouth.

The shirt fell, and the lamp found his shoulders.

He was long and lean and broad through the chest, with a faint line of dark hair down the middle of his stomach.

She had drawn this body from the back for two years.

She had never guessed the front of it would hurt to look at.

"Turn," she said.

He turned, slowly, and she walked around him.

There was a pale old scar below his ribs on the left side, thin as a thread.

She put her fingertip on it, and the muscles under her hand jumped.

"This is not in Dowon," she said.

"Put it in."

"Hold still."

"I am holding still."

"You're breathing."

"I have to do that," he said, in a voice that was low and unsteady.

She laughed softly against his shoulder blade, and then she kissed it.

He let out a long breath.

She kissed her way across his back, stood on her toes to reach the nape of his neck, and slid her hands around his waist.

His skin was hot, and he had gone very quiet.

"You are very obedient," she said.

"You said hold still."

"What if I said turn around?"

He turned.

He faced her with his chest rising and falling, and in the lamplight his eyes were black.

"Now you," he said.

"Me what?"

"I would like to see you."

She hesitated, for exactly one breath.

She was a size 77 in a country where the shops stopped at 66, and she knew what she looked like in a hoodie.

But he looked at her, and the hesitation went away.

She pulled the grey hoodie over her head.

Then she took her glasses off and put them on the table, because she wanted nothing between them.

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