On a surface level, he was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, unruly dark hair, and he was all angled lines and smooth surfaces. His smile was as dangerous as it was wicked. He’d be one hell of an adventure in bed; she knew that much. And holy shit, he knew how to kiss. She crammed those thoughts back into the sewer they crawled out of. He was a sicko. A killer, and a manipulative bastard.
