Ashely
"Your shirt buttons—" I remembered his husky voice bring warmth to my ears, "It's not done properly. If you were mine, I would have wanted nothing more but to rip that shirt off you."
My cheeks were painted red when he uttered those words. From the moment he entered the bakery, my eyes danced around his body and his expensive colonge that filled the air. I initially thought he was going to apologize for his nasty alleged girlfriend but my heart made a little happy dance when he stated she wasn't his girlfriend.
I knew he came for his watch. I had a feeling it was his when I saw it on the table, the other day but I was glad he did anyways.
The way he talked cheesily, the endless smirk on his face, the muscles on his arm.
I wondered how the muscles on his chest looked like.
His chiseled face, his sharp jawline. His smile. Everything he had, hooked me and I wondered why he wore a mask just to cover up that amazing looks.
