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“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice rougher and deeper than before. My core spasmed, and I felt a different kind of wetness between my thighs. It was Mason. All him. I had nothing to do with this. I put the phone on speaker before setting it on top of the long-forgotten book. Persephone could have Hades; I wanted my bull rider.
Sing for Me (The Langston Brothers Duet, #2)
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