Chapter 1
Freya POV
“Riot, I know it’s late as hell but thanks for squeezing me in like this,” I said, my voice coming out breathy as I stepped into his underground studio and let the heavy metal door slam shut behind me.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest.
The air hung thick with the smell of antiseptic, fresh ink, and that raw masculine scent of his skin mixed with motor oil and something warmer, something that made my stomach tighten.
Low bass from a gritty rap track vibrated through the concrete floor and up into my thighs.
He turned around from the counter, all six-foot-something of solid muscle wrapped in a tight black tank top.
Those tattooed arms flexed as he wiped his hands on a rag, and his dark eyes dragged over my bod
