Junior's eyes fluttered open, his chest rising and falling as he tried to shake off the remnants of the dream that had just gripped him. The images lingered—vivid, intoxicating, almost too real. He could still feel the warmth of her skin under his hands, the way her body trembled against his as he carried her away from that shattered life she'd been trapped in. The milf. Her tear-stained face, those curves that seemed to defy time, and the way her husband had treated her like trash. Junior hadn't been able to stand it. He'd stepped in, fists swinging, blood boiling, and when the dust settled, she was safe in his arms.