Sweet... Jesus... Christ... Almighty.
Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy. Wow. Just... Wow. Oh, my God. Oh, sweet God... Just look at...
Oh...
This was the gist of what went through my head when Steve Jansen emerged from the airport.
We didn’t have to wait inside. Steve’s flight landed early, and Bob had called him on his cell. Steve was waiting, bag in hand, just inside the entrance way, and when my car came to a stop near the curb he walked out. Every smoldering part of him came out. I wanted to turn him around, walk him back inside, get a ticket to anywhere, and join the Mile-High Club three, four, five, six times over.
I’ll do my very best to describe him without pausing too many times to go and grab my vibrator. He, like David and Robert, was a hulk of a man. Muscles were stacked on this man
