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“Ella watched as he dismounted that bike, pretty sure those jeans had been painted on. Dear Lord that was a delicious hind view. "Stop it, you’re not supposed to objectify new people." She knew it was a man because that black t-shirt showcased tanned skin and work earned muscles. He had turned around, his profile to her, and she watched that helmet come off, sunlight bouncing off the visor briefly. "I’m gonna objectify the shit out of that." Ella would freely admit she was a jackhole.” — Larkin Calder
Ella watched as he dismounted that bike, pretty sure those jeans had been painted on. Dear Lord that was a delicious hind view.
"Stop it, you’re not supposed to objectify new people."
She knew it was a man because that black t-shirt showcased tanned skin and work
earned muscles. He had turned around, his profile to her, and she watched that helmet come off, sunlight bouncing off the visor briefly.
"I’m gonna objectify the shit out of that." Ella would freely admit she was a jackhole.