He goes to his dresser, his back rippling, and I swear I hear him smile. “I take it you’re here for something,” he says as he fishes a pair of jeans out and then casually drops the towel from his waist. I slap a hand over my mouth to stop the squeak. His ass. Jesus Christ. I’m not an expert but holy shit, I think that’s how all asses should be. Tight and hard and firm and round and oh my God, I don’t know how he got that part as bronzed as the rest of him but yup. It’s bronzed and tempting and corded with muscles. I watch him put his jeans on with an open mouth and a thundering heart that’s on
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