the person on the other end of the line.  Amanda couldn’t help but admire his physique.  He was lean and fit, muscles rippled down his back and across his abdomen, his pectoral muscles bulged just enough to be incredibly attractive, but not so much that he looked like a steroid-filled weight-lifting nut.  It was definitely the body of a surfer - Amanda had known a few in her younger days, and they all developed particular muscles required for the sport.  His skin was tanned a golden brown and she could see fine blonde hairs running down the lower end of his back, disappearing beneath the point where the towel wrapped his waist. 

The scar was there as well, and it caught her by surprise for a moment.  Smooth white welts of healed skin in a semi-circular shape which arced from mi...

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