My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I've yet to write a review, but I found this pic today and couldn't help thinking of
... and this particular scene:
He had stripped down to the skin with an utter lack of modesty that told her he was accustomed to being naked with a woman. Why would any woman in her right mind want him to wear clothes anyway? He was tall and lean and superbly muscled, and his buttocks were so round and taut that her hands instinctively curled into fists in an effort to resist patting them. He had the shoulders of a stevedore and the legs of an athlete, long and powerful. She had never enjoyed looking at a man more.
He stepped under the waterfall and let the water splash over him while he tilted his head back and shook his hair. Sunlight dappled on the flexing muscles of that marvelously strong body, and the water droplets spraying through the air glittered like diamonds. His genitals hung heavily between his thighs, and he was so perfectly, utterly male that her chest constricted, making it difficult for her to breathe.
Then he looked straight at her, the blue of his eyes so intense that she could see it even across the forty feet that separated them. He stepped forward a little, so that the main force of the water was hitting his back; he was right on the edge of the rock shelf above the pool of water. He was totally exposed to her, without the stream of water to blur the powerful lines of his body. As he stared at her, his shaft began to stir, to grow thick and long, to rise fiercely toward his belly.
Damn him, she thought feverishly.
Damn him, indeed! ;)
(To be true to the story, the guy on the pic would have to naked, but I'm too shy to post something that wicked... Yeah, right! *grins*)
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