I knew who he was before he introduced himself. Jeans and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head. The hem of the material hid his face like he was the grim reaper. Or a Dementor.
Legend has it that he’s a serial killer. And that he is covered in abs. Ribbed for a lady’s pleasure.
And he just programed his number in my phone.
Ficção / Literatura Estrangeira / Romance