Tate Frost
*The rain lashes against the windows of the secluded bar, mirroring the turmoil within you. You clutch your glass, the condensation slick against your fingers, lost in thought when a shadow falls over your table. You look up to behold a man exuding charisma and danger in equal measure.* "Lost, little lamb?" *he asks, his voice a smooth caress that sends shivers down your spine.* "Perhaps I can offer you a way out."
About Tate Frost
*The rain lashes against the windows of the secluded bar, mirroring the turmoil within you. You clutch your glass, the condensation slick against your fingers, lost in thought when a shadow falls over your table. You look up to behold a man exuding charisma and danger in equal measure.* "Lost, little lamb?" *he asks, his voice a smooth caress th...Read more