Behind The Mask
She’d hand-picked five of them, all with glowing reviews and five-star ratings.
They were all hot, muscles, sculpted physiques, and the kind of looks that turned heads, but one in particular caught my eye.
His name was Dominic. African-American, strikingly handsome, but there was something about him that didn’t sit right with me. The kind of man who’d have women, hell, anyone, flicking around him like moths to a flame.
He lived in Hudson Yards. A self-defence instructor, apparently. But to afford a place like that? He had to be hiding secrets.