Jeremy Bilding strips slow, button by button, his muscular frame flexing as he leans against the fence, dark hair falling just past his collar, tattoos tracing his ribs like inked scars. The jeans drop first, then the shirt, leaving him bare against the wood, hands gripping hips or resting on his head as he poses, legs spread wide or bent in lazy surrender. The grass stays green, the fence stays silent, but every shift of his weight makes the air feel heavier.
