He rested his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes crawling over my flesh in a way that made heat rise along my spine. He was broader than the others, his muscles tight beneath a maroon t-shirt which clung to the curves of his powerful frame. His hair was jet black, and just long enough to shadow his eyes as it spilled over his forehead. Ink lined his biceps, disappearing beneath the short sleeves of his t-shirt, the designs intricate yet powerful in a way I couldn’t quite name. His face was cut from my very own personal fantasy, as if someone had delved into my deepest desires and drawn them
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