The man’s dark black jeans are ripped in places, mainly the knees, but they mold perfectly to his lower body, cupping his cock in a way that makes my body feel more sensitive, more aware. I gulp because if it looks that big when it’s soft, what must it look like when it’s hard? I can’t foresee anything more than a woman being completely wrecked. Thick thighs are next. Muscular and thick. Dayum. My eyes travel down to his boots. They are scuffed and battered, covered in mud splatters. I wonder where he was. Again, the man is not dressed for the 95-degree weather.
My gaze goes back to his face. His jawline is sharp and covered in dark stubble. His dark hair is low, almost a buzz cut, but there is enough to hold on to while he…Slow down,Cam.Gray hair grows at his temples. It doesn’t detract from his sexiness. If anything, it makes him more appealing. I wonder how old he is. Jace is in his mid-thirties, but from the hardened energy on this man, he feels older.
The two ladies in Jace’s smaller waterfall pool whistle, catcalling him, but the man doesn’t acknowledge them, not even turning to look at them. And I pay even closer attention. I love my brother, but I have no idea why they are here. They’ve been loud and frolicking half-naked since they got here.
Instead of giving them attention, he walks toward my brother, and I wonder who he is. From what I know, the only friend Jace spends much time with is Silas Kenzington. He’s friendly, sure, and I know he has many business associates, but this guy doesn’t necessarily look like he frequents board rooms. I immediately chastise myself, realizing that my thoughts are outdated. He could be another CEO. Not every corporate man wears a suit. My narrow views come from my father’s definition of a businessman, and using Tae Park as a guide in my thinking is the last thing I want to do. All his friends and their sons dress alike, perfect carbon copies of each other.
He looks our way, and when his eyes meet mine, at least I think they do, time pauses. He slows, and it feels like he’s looking right at me, but it’s hard to tell with both of us wearing sunglasses. The look is rawly potent, and I’m not prepared for how that penetrating gaze makes me feel. I swear to God, my body flushes, my nipples harden. He keeps staring my way, and I swallow because I imagine he’s looking at me in my white bikini. I can feel my nipples pushing against the thin nylon. I want to rub them, soothe the ache, but that would be nuts. Yeah, I can imagine what I would look like massaging my tingling nipples in front of my brother and new friends.
Aside from the immediate arousal I feel, my fingers itch to get my pencils and sketch him. His face is angular. His jaw issharp, but what captivates me the most is the scar that goes from the top of his eyebrow. I can’t tell since his shades are in the way, but it looks as though the scar continues across his eye, down to just below his chin. It should be off-putting because even from across the pool, I can see that the skin around the scar is puckered. It makes him look even more sinister, but I want to draw it. I want to touch it and run my fingers up the jagged line, cementing the uneven surface on paper.A charcoal portrait would be perfect. Thick dark lines show his magnetic energy. Smudges to highlight the hollows and shadows of his face.
Sophia’s soft murmur reaches me through that sexually charged moment. “Well whoever he is, he’s sex god status.”
“A sex god?” Ben, the only man in our current group lounging near the pool, questions.
“We’ll explain later,” Sophia responds, and I look at her sitting next to me. Her face is focused on the man, and I wonder if she’s attracted to him, too. They would be a good fit. Both oozing sexual energy and a ‘fuck you’ vibe.
Meela leans over next to me and whispers. “Do you think they’re everywhere?”
“If what’s everywhere?” I ask, absently still tracking his every move.
“His tattoos.”
I nod slowly. “Yup.” I’d bet those tattoos cover every inch of his body. Is his dick tattooed as well? Do people even do that? Do you have to have an erection to have your junk tattooed? Questions race through my mind, and I bite my lip, thinking about what his dick would look like with tattoos. From what’s exposed on his skin, there’s nothing cute about his ink. Skulls, smoke, and other shadowed images cover those thick, sinewy arms. Even his fingers are tattooed. But my mind can’t stop thinking about his penis. What does a man put on a dick? Pussy pictures? Messages? Like, ‘Suck me?’ I laugh, throw back myhead, and laugh at my own silliness. I cover my mouth, and when I look back up, he’s looking at it again. This time I’m sure. A muscle in his jaw starts moving, and he doesn’t look away until my hair blows into my face and I reach up to remove the long black strands sticking to my lip gloss.
But it seems everything he does is fascinating. A rush of adrenaline and desire flows through me when his eyes track my body from my face down to my toes. I’ve never gotten wet from just a man’s look. I’ve had decent sex. I’ve had orgasms. But for some reason, it feels like decent sex and orgasms would pale in comparison to what this man could do.
Even his scar is sexy. It went across his eye and down beyond his chin. The skin around the line was puckered a little, as if the cut hadn’t healed the way it should have. I want to inspect it, touch it, and see the tattoos that cover his arms. They look like a work of art.
“Meela! Come swim!” Tatum McLaughlin calls out, startling me. Meela also jumps in fright next to me. I watch her turn to the gorgeous blonde man in the pool. Tate slices through the water toward us, and I watch his arms. The man is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear I hear someone suck in a breath, but I can’t tell who. I would love to sculpt Tate, too, even though most of my work is done with mixed media. So far, my only subjects that I’ve turned into art are my brother, my father, and Kingsley, my best friend.
Meela slips into the water, heading for her best friend.
“Oh fuck,” Sophia utters and turns around and clocks her scowling face.
“Who?” I ask, confused and unsure of what is happening.
“He’s here, Dru,” Sophia snarls, pulling off her sunglasses.
“Who?” I ask again, turning to Dru sitting next to me. Dru’s shoulders hunch, but she doesn’t answer right away. She takes a deep breath and then curses. Ben frowns, looking behindhim, and I hear Sloane Alexander and Tatum call out to Silas Kenzington.
Looking behind me, I see Silas Kenzington and my brother Jace standing at the top of the hill, near the tattooed God. My brother shifts and steps in front of Silas, pushing him back up the incline. I don’t know how he manages it, seeing as how Silas Kenzington is fucking huge. I mean, over 6 feet of thickly muscled, gorgeous man. Jace is taller, but Silas has at least 50 pounds on him, and for a second, it looks as though he and Silas may come to blows with the way Silas is pushing at my brother’s arms, forcing him back. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Silas points at us, well, at Dru. What is going on with them? I know Dru works for him, but jeez, Silas is giving off crazy boss vibes right now.
I turn to my new friend, and she doesn’t react, but I can tell that Silas being here bothers her. Her relaxed posture is now tight, and Ben, her and Sophia’s new best friend, whispers to her. She nods, her face tense.
Silas walks to us, and the moment he says her name, Dru ignores him, sliding into the water, swimming to the other side of the pool. Ben follows her. Silas curses, stalking to the other side of the pool, following them.
“What was that about?” I ask Sophia since she’s the only one left.
Sophia takes off her shades and places them on her head. “I hope he falls in the water and drowns.”
“What did he do?”
“Enough,” is Sophia’s cryptic reply.
“That bad?”
“That bad. He fucked her over and I’m mad as hell.”
