He took his time tugging on his leather breeches, taking special care to smooth his hand over his taut rear end, ensuring the worn leather fit snuggly. And it did, she realized. His ass was perfection, just like the rest of him—two globes of perfectly proportioned muscle—wait… she narrowed her eyes at his casual movements. He stretched languidly in a way that popped his biceps and defined every sinew. She gasped at the realization the bastard was putting on a show for her.
