Her. Tori “Call Me Victoria” Larkin. Despite her desire to keep me at arm’s length, I simply couldn’t settle for that. In fact, my dumb ass refused to stop touching her like some sort of creepy stalker. Her scent is permanently etched into my brain and I’m already craving more. Not just her scent, but her mouth—fuck me—her mouth is an entity in and of itself. Perfect, pouty lips that are chewing my head off one minute, and the next quivering in an attempt to hold it all together. I want to kiss those angry lips. But I want to kiss the sad ones too. To fix her. To make it all better. As I roll up to the front of her building, I’m pleased to see it has valet. A couple of workers dressed in uniform whistle at my ride as I pull up to the attendant station. The male starts to head for my driver’s side window, but the red-headed chick pushes past him. I mash the button and the window rolls down to which she sticks her head in. Upon seeing me, her green eyes widen and she flashes me a flirtatious grin.
