CHAPTER 8

  He was all man, rugged and tall. He had Messy long hair on his head, scissor cut at the sides. His jaw was sharp and chiselled, his muscles ripple as he talks.

  He must be 25/30 years old, clean shaven and so so beautiful. His dark long lashes framed his beautiful brown eyes. They held wisdom, sparkling against the bright light.

  He was tall, really tall, maybe 6.2/6.4 and he was all damn man. His large wide shoulders were perfectly proportioned to his huge muscular body. My dreams had done him justice but not even my subconscious could muster up the true beauty that stood before me.

  I reach out to touch him, my hand connecting to his face, sparks lighting up my fingertips as I watch him amazed. He closes his eyes moaning, dropping his head slightly, his breath fanning my face.

  My body goes to blubber as his sweet vanilla scent makes my mouth water, layla pushes forward, grabbing his face and slamming our lips against his.