It wasn’t just Jessica’s question that had sent Marcus running—it was her scent, her smile, her curves. It didn’t matter that she was in the Junkyard against her will, by a total accident. He wanted her.
And fuck if that didn’t make him an even worse person than he’d felt before.
A helpless human woman was trapped in the Junkyard and he was no better than the other pricks in here, half-hard all the time just from the sweet floral scent that rose from her skin like some kind of drug.
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