This man had captivated her instantly. If she did not cease this opportunity, Mr. Perfect was going to slip right by. “Let me ask you a question. If...I were to say I’d love to fuck you right here right now, what would you say?” Quentin’s eyes had stopped momentarily from assessing her beautiful feminine shape and looked into her eyes. “Why Amanda, you read my mind. I was thinking the same exact thing. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He slid off the barstool and took her hand in his. Not even. He was digging through her purse while her other attacker kept his weight on Melissa, holding her down to the desk. When the man found her wallet, he pulled it out, dropping her purse. He fumbled through her wallet, looking for something, though passing up the money much to her surprise. He seemed to find what he was looking for though as he pulled out her drivers license. Melissa Devaux the man said with a deep voice. Birthday, December sixteenth, nineteen ninety. Perfect. Shes eighteen.. More

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