Yours

This can’t be happening. Not to me. It was supposed to be fun. A spring break trip to Tijuana with my friends. A margarita in each hand while we danced the night away. Then I saw him in the club. He was too perfect to be true—an impeccably tailored suit, a sculpted body. Ice-blue eyes that seared with desire. I thought everything about him was right. But I was dead wrong. A gun to my head. A collar around my neck. A whisper in my ear telling me to follow orders… OR ELSE. And the strange look ...

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