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My modeling jobs had gotten me used to naked bodies.
But none of the male models were as hot as these guys.
Their gazes tracked us as we walked through the room. It felt like a spotlight was trained on us, and most of them had a gleam in their eyes like they wanted to eat us alive.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” one of the players purred. A douchebag looking red head that I remembered had tackled—oops, wrong sport—checked Ari at one point. As unfamiliar as I was with hockey, I was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hit your own teammate.
Accident or not, he wasn’t my favorite.
Charlotte shot him a flirty grin as he leaned against the lockers and took her in. His gaze flicked to me. “Two for one special? Must be my lucky day,” he said.
“In your dreams, Soto,” a deep, growly voice said from behind me.
Ari Lancaster.
I was shaking slightly as I turned, almost unbidden like I couldn’t resist his gravitational force, and I was having trouble breathing all of a sudden.
Of course, my mind had gone to what he would look like under clothes…but it certainly hadn’t prepared me for this.
His emerald eyes met mine with an intensity that stole my breath. Time stood still as our gazes held with a charged connection.
He was only wearing a towel, and it was sitting obscenely low on his lean hips. His skin was a sun-kissed bronze color that had me salivating, a sinful masterpiece, chiseled by the gods of desire themselves. Every inch of him exuded raw, unadulterated sex appeal, a living testament to masculine perfection.
His broad shoulders sloped down to a taut, sculpted chest that begged for exploration, each defined muscle an invitation to temptation. His abdomen was a landscape of sinewy ridges and valleys, leading the way to a set of washboard abs that had me wanting to weep. That sexy-v, the one responsible for wet panties everywhere, dragged my eyes directly to his towel…that was slowly rising in front in a huge tent that had my eyes wide and a squeak passing from my lips.
I quickly yanked my gaze up to Ari’s insanely handsome face, an unrepentant smirk on his lips. He lifted an eyebrow, daring me to say something, his damp, ebony locks falling over his forehead, the wet tendrils framing his striking face like a sensual curtain. Glistening droplets of water clung to his bronzed skin, tracing a path down the landscape of his chest.
Ari Lancaster was the embodiment of desire.
His gaze was roaming my body hungrily, so I gave myself a few more seconds to take him in.
Tattoos adorned his golden skin everywhere. Intricate designs, some inky black and others vibrant with color, painted a vivid story that I could spend hours exploring. In the center of Ari's sculpted chest lay a tattoo of a large, broken birdcage. The intricate details of the cage were etched with precision, its bars twisted and shattered, as if they could no longer contain the wild spirit within.
Inside the fractured cage, a magnificent bird soared, its wings stretched wide as if it had just tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. The bird's feathers were exquisite, each one a testament to the beauty that lay beyond the confines of captivity.
My body reacted with a rush of warmth, a primal response to this magnificent specimen before me. Every cell in my body recognized his perfection on a visceral level. My core clenched with needy emptiness. My breasts felt tight and aching. My breathing was unsteady. I—
An arm slid into mine as Charlotte pressed against me. I actually jumped from the interruption to my lust fest.
“Introduce me, roomie,” she purred as she eyed Ari’s body…and huge erection, like he was her last meal.
The room suddenly came alive again, the noises of the other players filling the air as the spell I’d been under was broken. We were, in fact, not alone. And I’d probably just embarrassed the hell out of myself by eye fucking their star as if I was in a trance.
“Blake,” Charlotte hissed, shooting me a harsh side eye.
Something nasty slid around inside of me.
I realized…I was jealous. It wasn’t a sensation I was used to. Actually, I couldn’t remember having this particular feeling once with Clark.
Right. Boyfriend. Clark.
Fuck, I was a terrible person.
It didn’t change the fact that it was making me sick to my stomach to think of her seeing the same delicious sight that I was seeing.
What if he thought she was hot? I mean, shewashot. Charlotte always had a guy a snap of her fingers away.
“Hi,” I found myself saying, also realizing that Ari and I hadn’t said anything to each other yet.
