She was a bleeding heart. She was going off the deep end. She was becoming a furry—not that there was anything wrong with that. She knew a few really nice furries. No, it was more like she was becoming one of those women who turned prison pen pal to guys like Bundy and Richard Ramirez. There were a dozen explanations going through Neha’s head when she left lockup and returned to the real world, but there was only one image. Joe Peluso, right before he kissed her. That brutish face, still a little bruised and cut. And his eyes. Looking too far. Seeing too much. She’d dealt with plenty of sexual overtures, but she’d never, ever had anyone look at her that way. Like she was the beginning, middle, and end. He wanted her. No, more than that, he craved her. She’d never been the subject of this kind of desire. The men she’d dated… She’d had to work them to arousal, convince them to do the same for her. Usually in exchange for a blow job. They’d never been turned on just by being near her. She’d never been out of her head just being around one of them….