He saunters in, commanding the eyes, driving sparks of desire—scorching his way in with a sexy swagger. His skin-tight jeans, hugged and cupped to his sensuous hips, a heart-stopping reveal of his sheer, raw masculinity. Making it impossible to avert our gaze, seducing us, one forbidden glance at a time.
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He moved closer, his tight jeans cupping his every curve, every ripple of muscle. His scent was like an aphrodisiac, a raw heat that made me ache for his touch. I lost myself with one glance, and suddenly all I wanted was him. Hot. Hard. Mine.
He could see every curve of his physique in that tight tank top. His dark-rimmed eyes, full lips, and stubbly jaw were shrouded in a mysterious air of desire, a secret seduction behind those perfectly drawn biceps. He felt something stir deep inside him, a feeling unlike anything he’d ever experienced before; a burning and insatiable hunger for more of the muscle selfie man’s tight and tender flesh.