“A few moments ago, he'd had her up against a wall, skirt shoved up to her belly button, hands in her panties, his fingers driving her straight to oblivion, and now... now he was this intense, cool, calm, and collected man. With a gun. "Breanne. Are you ok?" She stared at him. He had his shirt loose and draped over the bulge of his gun. He looked rough-and-tumble. Baddass. Damn it, she had a serious weakness for badass.”