" I’ve never been so aware of a man in my whole life.
His fragrance and height, the way he carries himself. His voice and demeanor. Every part of him scrapes against the inside of my head and I have to control the shudder. Unable to determine if its revulsion or something more murdery on the other end of the spectrum.
It’s not through choice that I notice him.
There’s no professional reason for me to be wondering what his sinful hands can do. With every glance at them, my thoughts become dirtier.
He’s moody and his ego is bigger than his platinum disk collection. "

― V. Theia , Manhattan Muse (From Manhattan #8)