You know, on the outside, I look like a good girl — a modest little floral dress, a shy smile, a Belarusian princess by the sea. But in reality, I'm sitting in a café right now, stirring my second latte with a spoon and thinking about anything but romance. I'm thinking about how badly I want to sleep with you. Straight up, no “let's get to know each other better” nonsense. I've looked at you enough already — now I want your hands on me, and I want to kiss you until our lips are burning. I'm Molly, 20, by the way. Send me your address, and I'll come over.