"Whoa, easy, Roman!" Dante cried out. That's just her stage name — "
"Shut up, p***y!" I snarled, strong-arming him out of the way.
I stepped right up to her, my angel, looking like a prisoner in this den of scum, and stared into those beautiful eyes that had pierced right through me last night on the steps of the museum.
Her outfit was trashy, something sexy meant to appeal to the most basic nature of men.
It was like putting ketchup on a New York strip steak, and it killed me to see her in it.
She smelled just like I remembered, and instantly my body came alive for her. Only this time I didn't just want to take her and have her to myself; I wanted to save her.
"Are you all right, angel?" I asked.
She didn't respond but she didn't need to; I could see the sadness in her eyes, the e
