Damon Holden hit me with his car. The gorgeous fool was drunk. So I did what any obsessed fan would’ve. I kidnapped him.
After I first got over the shock that it was truly him; dreamy and delicious behind those mirrored shades, it was obvious what I had to do. I shoved him in my car, slammed the door, and drove away.
As I zoomed around the streets of Paris, beside me dozing was the one and only bad boy tennis superstar. And, I know what you’re thinking: of course I activated the child-locks so he couldn’t fall out or escape!
My hands were shaking and my heart was racing. It was crazy, I must've lost my ever-loving mind, but I didn’t dare turn back.
There was only one problem. I didn't plan it, it just happened. I was supposed to be relaxing on vacation! What on earth was I going to do once I got him back to my apartment? Keep him? Handcuff him to the bed and have my wicked way with him?
But a small, very naughty, voice inside my head was telling me to do just that.