Madeline stares at her savior in awe and rapture. Somehow, she feels she has known him all her life, and her body longs for him in a manner she can't explain. She feels he is troubled in his spirits and she will love nothing more than to have his head in her lap, smooth out his hair and make slow sensual love with him. Damn, how did she arrive at this point so fast by just looking into the intruder’s piercing deep amber eyes? This is quite an unusual feeling for her, she has never felt that way for any boy before. He is a tall, muscular and barrel-chested young man probably just a few years older than she is. She is currently seventeen and that leaves him at, say, maybe twenty years of age. His lustrous red hair is held back from his face with a hair band and his jawline is beautifully sculpted. He has a face a poet can write pages of love and courageous poetry about.“Hel-hello, I’m Madeline. Th-thank you," she manages to say something, her cheeks flushing deep shades of red.“Did
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