CHAPTER 1: HE FINGERS MY MARRIED PUSSY
LENA’S POV
Let’s get one thing straight—I wasn’t some lost little lamb in that bar. I was a wolf in a little black dress, and I was f*****g hunting.
The bar was dim, the kind of place where the air smelled like whiskey and bad, bad decisions. Neon signs flickered behind the bottles, casting a sultry glow over the polished mahogany.
Perched on my stool, I made sure my dress was riding high enough to show the lace tops of my stockings.
My fingers traced the rim of my martini glass, the ice clinking softly as I swirled the liquid. My stiletto was hooked on the rung, swinging just enough to draw the eye.
And then he walked in.
Jesus Christ. He was a giant. A god carved from obsidian. Tall enough to block the door, with shoulders so broad I insta
