My Stepbrother’s Cruel Obsession (BL)
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I watched him walk toward us with a black canvas hand bag slung over his left shoulder and a suitcase in his other hand.
Physically, Steven was a genetic aberration: he stood one meter ninety-two of pure lean muscle, with shoulders so broad they made the terminal hallway look narrow. His dark blonde hair was cut close on the sides, leaving a textured upper section, and his eyes, a deep bottle green, shone with a lucidity that bordered on arrogance. He had a square jaw, marked by a perfectly trimmed three-day beard, and sharp, gray eyes that contrasted with his dark hair, which was messily tossed in a careless way.
But the most goddamn maddening thing wasn't his typical stupid athlete's body
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