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Chapter Forty One
Rory’s POV Oh no, no, no, no, no! This cannot be happening! What is Marcus Langway doing here? I try not to focus on just how good he looks in the blue jeans that sculpt his muscular legs, images of which assault my alcohol fuelled mind. Paired with the black button down shirt he’s wearing, rolled up at the sleeves to the elbows showing off those forearms that make women’s knees weak, he’s like a snack on legs and I wouldn’t mind biting. I don’t care what anyone says, forearm p.orn is a real thing, there is something inanely sexy about a man who has powerful forearms, just the visual reminder that he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder all caveman style has me shuddering. I shake my head, trying to remove the illicit thoughts that are playing on a reel there. I am sworn off
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