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I really should pretend I’m not watching him. But it’s impossible not to. I didn’t look away during that scene in Casino Royale either when Daniel Craig emerged from the water. He wears board shorts, low on his hips, and a pair of flip flops. I watch him as he walks through the sand, closer, closer and there, now I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I would like to lick all those water droplets off his chest and his abs and then run a hand down his body to sear into my memory the feel of that kind of firm outline. Soon, he’s mere feet from me, scratched-up surfboard by his side, in all his glistening, ocean-ed up glory. Neither one of us says anything for a few seconds, and it’s the kind of silence that’s filled with unsaid things.