Immediately, her jaw dropped slightly like an unhinged door when she took in his half naked glory. To say the least, the only piece of clothing standing between her and a naked walking sex god was a gossamery towel.
As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't. She remained transfixed in her spot as though she had been superglued like a figurine on a display shelf. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the ravishing masterpiece of a sculpture which, by sheer good luck or horrible bad luck, was being prominently displayed in front of her—for free!
His raven black hair was wet and trails of water formed a path down his neck, past his Adam's apple, all the way across his broad chest and taut abs – making his tanned torso scintillate in the moonlight.
Could this man get any more beautiful?