I’m not easily intimidated by men. Growing up in a drug cartel compound, I had hard-looking men around me since I was a little girl. But this . . . this man would intimidate anyone.
The guy standing at the door is well over six feet tall and heavily muscled. However, he is not bulky like one would get by pumping weights in the gym and taking supplements. His body must have been honed to perfection over years. Every muscle is perfectly defined and fully on display since he’s only wearing faded jeans. And as far as I can tell, he’s also fully covered in ink. Both of his arms up to his wrists, torso—all the way up to his collarbones, and, based on the black shapes I can see on his shoulders, his tattoos must continue over his back as well.
I let my gaze travel upward to his face, which is s
