...He topped six feet by several inches, with legs like tree trunks and hands that would leave no doubt they’d touched you when the time came. His auburn hair was done neat and short, and if it was more Super Cuts than super chic, that just fit with Joe’s no nonsense personality. Fess was rather enamored with the beard Joe so blindly sported, and his hazel eyes were clear and intelligent, unblinking and intense when he decided to fix them on a person.
That didn’t happen enough, as far as Fess was concerned. Too often, Joe would look elsewhere, or duck his gaze, anything but look at Fess directly.
But what Fess couldn’t resist, what he’d never been able to resist ever since the first time he heard Joe on the radio, was that voice. When Joe spoke, thunder rolled in the distance. It was slow and hypnotic, like every word meant something, sinking beneath Fess’s skin to take root deep in his gut and send tendrils of smoke and fire out to every single nerve ending he possessed. He hadn’t heard a word of Joe’s broadcast that first time, too lost in how molten his body became just listening to him. He’d jerked off as soon as Joe went off the air, coming so hard he’d crashed for hours afterward.
That voice was his porn of choice over the next few months, but as he listened, he discovered the man behind it. Meeting him in person hadn’t changed a single thing about how attracted he was to him. If anything, it had enriched his fantasies since he now knew exactly what Joe looked like.
Joe didn’t know any of this, of course. After Fess’s stupid stalker comment, he couldn’t afford coming across as an even bigger groupie freak than he was. That might change down the road, or if Joe continued to be a dumbass about believing Fess would want to go out with him, but for now, Fess was going to keep his mouth shut on that particular detail.