Her neck glistened in Romeo’s rear view mirror. Perspiration bubbled up through her skin and popped against the hair curling at her nape. She’d be mouthing at the driver in the Chevy behind if Romeo hadn’t taped her up and painted a grin over the bumps where her lips should be. Strapped, wrist by wrist to either side of the backseat she looked like she was straddling a honey. Honey wasn’t there; the leather between her thighs gleamed clean.
PULP METAL MAGAZINE 