Usually, I had no problem falling asleep and staying that way. I had the perverted jerk to thank for my insomnia. Men like him didn’t get the message that not every stripper was into lewd acts. Unfortunately, I couldn’t easily forget about the bastard. His handsome face entered each and every one of my dreams, leaving me tossing and turning all night. More than once I awakened just to walk the floors. Memories of my misadventure pummeled me like tiny invisible fists.
The black expensive car.
The captivating voice inviting me for a ride.
His name was Alexander, and he insisted on walking me home.
Was I going mad?
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