He had a fence inked across his back; the main post of it ran down his spine in black and gray. Full- color roses spilled across it, punctuated by shadowed skulls. The entire picture was haunted. Terrible and beautiful. Sad and joyous.

And it really accentuated the width of his shoulders as his body narrowed at his hips. She wanted to rub all over him. So she gave in, pressing herself to his skin, hugging him from behind.

He made one of those rumbling approval sounds that made her all gooey as he ran his hands over her arms. “You feel good.”

She brushed her fingertips over his nipples and flicked the barbell with her nail. Another rumble. He was like a big cat, or a wolf or something. So close to him, she knew he could be dangerous if he wanted to. He was in his prime. Healthy. Strapping.

But he reined it in. Held it together and didn’t use that strength to harm.

He was like a tsunami of testosterone and it was breathlessly hot. Which she didn’t understand because she wasn’t the alpha-male type.

She pushed back and continued to circle. At his side she bent to read the words scrolled over his ribs: Brotherhood is the very price and condition of man’s survival.

He had those things—what did they call them? Adonis belts! Yes, well he had them and they confused her because they did all sorts of things to her hormones.

Standing in front of him, she slid her fingertips over the funky skull and crossbones on his belly and also the lines of those muscles.

“This doesn’t seem sporting.”

“Me standing here with my cock about to explode while a gorgeous Amazon circles me and gives me kisses and pets? I’m a patient man, beauty. But my patience when it comes to waiting any longer to get you under me has expired.”

“Well, I was actually referring to your body. And these things here.” She brushed her thumbs against the line of muscle at each hip bone. “I’m sure they must be prohibited by the Geneva Convention. This is some sort of confusion weapon, right?”

He had a little hair on his chest. Enough to be hot. Especially that line that led down into his pants from his belly button.

“Why are these on?” She ran a finger between hot, hard skin and the waistband of his jeans. “I know what’s in there and I’d like to play with it awhile.”

He shook his head. “Your turn.”

“I’m trying but you won’t take your pants off.”

“Your tits have made my mouth water all night long in that shirt. Take it off.”

She pulled her shirt off and then got rid of her bra.

He stepped into her personal space and stole her breath. “For months I’ve watched you. Wondered about what was under all your clothes. The reality is way better than even my brain could have imagined.”

Taking her breasts in his hands, he tugged her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She arched into his touch; the sinew and muscle of his shoulders and neck called to her so she let go of pants he was clearly going to rid himself of when he was good and ready. She slid her hands up his belly, over the wall of his chest. Her final destination was his neck but she took her time at his chest because he felt so good. Too good to leave behind so she used her lips on his throat instead.

His pulse beat steady as she kissed him just beneath his jaw, right at the line of his beard as she learned Ezra really liked to have fingernails run lightly over his nipples.

He let go and she nearly wept at the loss of sensation. Luckily, he banded an arm around her waist and picked her up, carrying her to his bed. “I want those pants off, beauty. You wearing anything beneath?”

“One thing you should know about me,” she said as she slowly unzipped her pants, “is that I always wear underwear with pants. A dress or a skirt? Well, I guess we’ll have to take that on a case-by-case basis.”

“All right, I’m tucking that away for future reference.”

She shimmied from her pants and the coral-pink panties and leaned back on her elbows, staring up at him.

“You now.” Like so much now.

He stood there as she watched and when his grin hitched up a little, she sucked in a breath because there was a lot of promise in that mouth of his. She could hardly wait.

He slid his hands over his belly.

Over flat, hard bands of muscle. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he moved his hands up to his nipples.

Nipples he pinched.

Her own nipples ached at the phantom of his touch.

Breath held, she continued to watch as he caressed his upper body. The size of his hands as they cupped his neck and up into his hair made her so hot for him.

Ezra was bigger than life. All that smolder beneath the surface was hot, but then he drew the curtain back and exposed the entirety of that to her and she drowned in it. Held on with her fingernails to keep from being lost in everything he threw out.

Then he moved those hands to his pants.

“Are you breathless to know how this movie ends?”

“Ezra, this movie ends with you fucking me.”

“At least twice.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped and she saw he didn’t share the same rules about wearing underwear beneath pants.

Swiftly he was naked and in half a breath he brushed his body against hers and it was...so good. So good as gooseflesh rose. He smelled good. Like soap and hot rock star about to have sex with her. Which was pretty much her favorite scent ever.

Tuesday wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the weight of his body on hers. She loved this, this feeling of being totally surrounded by a partner. Loved the intensity of that sort of connection.