His thick, corded shoulders and arms were the kind you could picture bending a car in half or wrapping around you like a shield. His torso and chest were carved with muscle and decorated with deep scars and tattoos, a timeline of his life. Symbols and pattern tattoos scrolled down his arms, and one started at his side and slipped below his pants line. I couldn’t decipher the meaning of any of them, but there was no denying they were sexy as hell. He was brutal and sensual, terrifying and captivating.
