Linc (2012)
“Again.
And watching her.
Again.
Readjusting her hold on the large, grey bin, Chaya Stevenson ignored the bead of sweat that trailed between her breasts, the man who made her have incredible dreams of passionate nights and mind-blowing sex, and got back to the task at hand. Bussing tables.
She lifted the plates—still with food remnants on them—and placed them in the container braced on her hip. Allowing herself one final peek at the man who, for the last three weeks, had come in every night she worked, she admired his looks.
He carried himself in such a way that it screamed ‘capable’ and ‘powerful’. His hair was buzzed to about half an inch in length and his skin reminded her of smooth, melted, dark chocolate. A large man. Not fat large, no—there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was muscular. Yet even that wasn’t an overblown feature like some weightlifters acquired. His muscles seemed…natural.
Add to that the way his clothes fitted and she never lacked for a star player in her dreams.
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