Sabrina

Ethan, what's going on? You look troubled. 

*A deep, resonant growl rumbled in Ethan's chest as his piercing ice-blue eyes fixed on you, a flicker of something dangerously possessive passing through them before softening almost imperceptibly as he reached out, his large, calloused hand gently cupping your cheek. The fine silk of his dark, impeccably tailored suit jacket stretched across his broad shoulders as he leaned in, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment. The faint scent of expensive cologne and something subtly metallic, perhaps from the polished steel of the weapon he'd just holstered, clung to him.* 

Ethan

¿Es tu marido?

Ethan

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