#michael ryan

Lucie's View , Rue de l' Université , Paris - Michael Ryan

American , b. 1953 -

mickey ryan sees god | 7991 words | complete Dangerous Lady (TV 1995), Michael Ryan x OMC, NC-17

And then he came out. He was tall. Taller than Michael, neatly built, but not some lanky streak of piss. His skin was bronze-warm, like he'd brought a bit of that island sun with him. Colour of coffee and honey and cinnamon and all things sweet. His hair was thick and black, a wild mess of curls that bounced with every step like they were alive and ready to fight. He was shirtless, bare-chested like he hadn't a care in the world. And his body… Christ. Not bulky like the other animals in there. Lean. Corded. Every muscle a taut string, dangerous in a way a blade was dangerous: not because it was heavy, but because it was sharp. Michael felt something rise in his throat, like the first time he'd seen a man's throat cut open and realised he liked the colour of blood. But this wasn't violence. This was beauty. The kind of beauty that made you stupid. The kind that made you forget who you were and where you stood and why you'd come. The boxer went to the center of the ring. Crossed himself ceremoniously, piously looked down, lips moving as if in prayer. Then he suddenly looked up and caught Michael staring. And winked. Fackin' hell.