Dark hair. Full lips slanted in a smirk. Tattoos that climb the side of his neck from beneath his collar. His arm is draped over the shoulders of a tiny brunette woman, the rings on his tattooed knuckles glinting beneath her perfect waves. He’s tall and powerfully built. Even with his leather jacket and thick sweater I can tell he’s basically a wall of muscle. And with those dark, predatory eyes that sharpen like a blade set to cut me, I know he’s trouble. Big fucking trouble by the name of Lachlan Kane.
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