chapter 16
I’d seen naked men before. The locker room was a freaking sideshow of male genitalia, and my presence there was sometimes unavoidable. I’d learned to keep my head down and walk quickly, a trip in and out typically knocked out within thirty seconds.
Not this trip. My head had been up, my teeth deep in the apple, my eyes widening as they encountered the utter beauty that was a naked Chase Stern.
Torso facing me, he had a white towel lifted to his neck, the action tensing every perfect ab, his shoulders wide and strong.
His head was down, his mess of dirty blond hair showing as he rubbed his neck, the other hand loose on his hip—God, the cut of that hip, a hard line of definition that pulled my eyes down to the thing that hung between his legs, big and proud.
His penis. I was staring at Chase Stern’s penis.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move; I just stared.
It was darker than his legs, thicker than I had imagined that organ would be, and it swung slightly when he chuckled.
Chuckled. My brain registered the sound right before he spoke.