Three more days, and he'd finally have an excuse to flip the calendar to a new picture, to the picture, the one he could stare at for hours and never stop drooling. Mr. May was tall, slender, his fingers rough where they peaked out from the heavy work jacket, but his chest and abs looked silky and just... delicious. Shaved, too, because no one with such a wild mop of hair on their head and determined five o'clock shadow could be that smooth in other places.
Ghost! Rodney, Romance Novel Writer! John