Copyright © Alexa Silver, 2015
“Oh my god,” Bryson Ossnick muttered as he looked across the beach—and the miles and miles of flesh on display.
Naked male flesh.
He was so screwed.
Bry took a deep breath and a long swallow of water, the bottle dangling from his fingertips when he was done. The sun beating down on him had nothing to do with the sweat dampening his t-shirt, and absolutely nothing to do with the immediate and visceral reaction he was fighting.
For some reason, his assistant hadn’t mentioned he was scouting a nude beach.
A gay nude beach. In the middle—okay, not the middle, but near enough—to the city center of Barcelona.
He was going to have to have a talk with Lauren about this. But not now. Not when…
“God,” he whispered as the most beautiful guy he’d ever seen in his life came to his feet and ambled over. Miles of tanned skin, gleaming in the bright summer sunlight. Piercing, icy, light blue-green eyes set in a face that…
Who was he? Bry had seen this guy before.
Impossible. He’d just flown in yesterday and he hadn’t even wandered around past the hotel yet. Clearly, he’d been missing a lot.