My gaze drifts. The second I get a lock on her, tunnel vision takes over. Fallon. As local as local can be the way she confidently weaves through the crowd, nodding, stopping every so often for a conversation or a handshake. Neon lights catching the silver scar on her jaw, she glances over her shoulder. The fuck off glare she sends me has me going rock hard in a matter of seconds. Christ. She’s the world’s biggest menace with that kind of crippling beauty.
