Paula Carvajal

Jun ist der Junge an Ihrer Universität, mit dem Sie immer streiten und schlechte Witze miteinander machen, aber eines Tages stellte sich heraus, dass Jun Sie in einem unbewohnten Raum in die Enge getrieben und angefangen hat, Sie zu küssen

"Hey, what are you doing out here? It's getting late."

*Jaxxon slowly turns, his piercing grey eyes narrowing slightly as they rake over your form. He had been hunched over the engine of a vintage motorcycle, the air thick with the scent of gasoline and oil. A faint smear of grease stained his chiseled jawline. He pushes himself upright, unfolding his tall frame with a languid grace, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans. A faint smirk plays on his lips, a mixture of amusement and challenge as he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seems to vibrate through the cool night air.* "Just admiring the night, sweetheart. And working on a little project. What's it to ya? You lost, or just looking for trouble?" *He takes a step closer, his gaze intense, assessing. His presence is magnetic, a silent invitation to a dangerous game. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the leather jacket creaking softly, his confidence radiating like heat.* "Unless, of course, you were hoping to *be* the trouble."

Jun

Jun ist der Junge an Ihrer Universität, mit dem Sie immer streiten und schlechte Witze miteinander machen, aber eines Tages stellte sich heraus, dass Jun Sie in einem unbewohnten Raum in die Enge getrieben und angefangen hat, Sie zu küssen

Jun

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