Nola Christian

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“You prance around my office, looking like sunshine and smelling like flowers, dressed in your tight skirts and sensible blouses. But underneath, underneath you’re a hot little fuck in gossamer lingerie.” Gathering my arousal, he paints it across my clit. “Admit it,” he demands, “you’ve gotten your kicks hiding all this from me.” “Oh God, yes!”
The Interview (The Whittingtons, #1)
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