How he pulled it off was as mystifying as it was titillating. Colin was petulant and capricious, arrogant and visibly exercise-averse; he wore too much flashy jewelry and way too much cologne and refused on an unknowable principle to pluck his one, very pronounced eyebrow into two. And he dripped so much s*x appeal that he practically needed someone to follow him around with a mop. He knew he was the most spectacular male of the species that an exceptionally generous god had seen fit to allow his cutting-room-floor creations to enjoy, and entry into Colin’s world was strictly controlled, permitted only to those who adhered to this singular tenet of his faith. Men who didn’t worship him as a s*x god were simply beneath his notice—and frankly, I didn’t want to meet the stone-souled man who’d
