Sated, pleasantly tipsy, the party winding down, she got into the back of the limo, her cream silk pants whispering over sumptuous leather where she came face to face with tall, dark, and brooding.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome. In fact, quite the opposite if one liked dark, moody men. And who would’ve thought she did. Her body shivered deliciously as his denim blue eyes roamed leisurely over her then and now.
Girl, you’re losing it.
During the ride home, she took in his shoulder length black hair, roman nose, full lips. Sensual is how she’d have described them in her novels. Blue eyes with thick lashes that any woman would sell her soul to have, and his slightly dimpled chin were a contrast to his personality.
Not surprisingly, he was dressed all in black. Black jeans, jacket, and T-shirt stretched tight across his muscled chest and sinewy arms. And he had the word thug written all over him.
Peyton was well acquainted with men like him. Men that protected their bosses and illegal livelihood without qualms. Men she’d thought were out of her life. Well, at least in the background.
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