Designer Drugs (18+)
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- Parts 12
"You don't know my past," I smirk at the well-dressed Italian man buying me a vodka-on-the-rocks at "La Fontana," the night club I decide to prowl tonight.
"I don't even know your name, bella," he cooes at me, curling the compliment in a thick accent off his tongue.
"And I don't even know yours," I sip from the strong drink the devilishly handsome man bought for me, twirling the clear drink with my delicate but well manicured fingers.
He runs his hand along my inner thigh, gold rings on his fingers standing out against my tan legs. My silky smooth light-olive skin feeling so good beneath his strong, powerful hands and I wonder what they would feel like around my throat.
"Better learn it soon, I want to hear you moaning it out tonight," and with that, he strolls away.
Welcome to the dangerous world of Allyson D'Arco
She escaped her father's drug cartel and fled to the Italian city of Turin to avoid the same dismal fate as her father. She's shy at first, but with long, long legs, she isn't afraid to show a little skin to get her way in the world
He's the son of a successful clothing designer with big hopes and a wild appetite. He's tall, dark and handsome, and his accent will make any girl swoon. Not to mention he has more money than God himself.
At a dark club, the meet by chance. Only when they wake up the next morning together does she realize who he truly is.
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