Chapter 39

He has a toned, tight, and sculpted body to die for. That sallow Italian skin is tanned enough to make me weak at the knees but not flashy and overdone like a man who frequents a tanning bed. This is all-natural. He is, by physical standards, complete perfection, and I guess he spends more time in the gym than I give him credit for—either that or he has great DNA and is lucky to have a fast metabolism and effortless physique. Alexi straightens up in only fitted boxers, and I have to try not to check out how much he is packing, but it’s unbelievably hard not to notice. If he’s even semi-hard right now, then he’s carrying way more than most men, and I have a moment of doubt that this will be good. There is a fine line between well-endowed and uncomfortably large, something I learned from working the streets for years. I look away and try and focus on his face and see the smirk already in place. Mr Confidence is oozing all over him. He knows he has a decent size in his shorts, smug pri