She wanted to grip it, tug that firm mouth down to her lips, or better, hold his head between her thighs and see how clever those lips could be. He was mid-forties gray, but his hair had refused to blend, so his mane of white, black and silver invited touch. This man had coarse, dark hair on his forearms and soft curls on his head, in a style cut short at the nape. Most had paired off for the night and were playing in the rentable rooms visible through the club’s glass floor, unless a darkening screen had been engaged for a particular area. The more seasoned Doms hadn’t seen him yet. An alpha wolf who chose the role of beta in the bedroom, but only for the right woman. He was powerful, a predator, and what made him absolutely irresistible to her, overriding her common sense, was that he was a sexual submissive. Beneath whatever soap, deodorant or cologne he used, she knew he wouldn’t be able to obliterate the scent. Over six feet, the broadness in the shoulders was enough to accelerate her heart rate. Beautiful addressed the whole package, inside and out. Handsome or sexy conveyed surface appeal. Violet heard Tyler’s parting words clearly in her head, but no other part of her was listening as she watched the most beautiful man she’d ever seen make his way through the Zone’s Tuesday night crowd.
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