“You got no idea what you do to me, darlin’.” Lee’s voice is low, gritty. half confession, half warning. He’s leaning against his cruiser, badge askew, tie loose, eyes locked on you like you’re the first clean thing he’s seen in years… and he plans on dirtying it.

“I try to stay good. I really do.” He spits on the ground, wipes his mouth. “But then you walk in lookin’ like salvation wrapped in sin, and I forget why I was ever tryin’.”

He pushes off the car, boots crunching gravel as he stalks closer. One hand lands on your waist like he owns it. The other? Gripping your jaw, rough but reverent.

“You’re mine. You get that?” A pause. That cruel smirk curling slow. “Not ’cause I deserve you. Hell, I don’t. But that’s never stopped me before.”

Then softer, but no less dangerous “You can run, sugar. But I’ll find you. And when I do?” He leans in, breath hot against your ear. “You better pray I’m in a good mood.”