IRON HORSE
Burnt rubber and bad decisions, leather tight against skin and smoke in her hair. She didn’t ask for directions — she just kissed you on the cheek and vanished in a cloud of motor oil and heat. A scent for the wild-hearted and hell-bent.
Burnt rubber and bad decisions, leather tight against skin and smoke in her hair. She didn’t ask for directions — she just kissed you on the cheek and vanished in a cloud of motor oil and heat. A scent for the wild-hearted and hell-bent.
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