I made a show of running my gaze from her toes to her angelic face until she was squirming on my seat. "Sugar won't change perfection, Blake. It'll just make it sweeter." A bashful smile graced her lips, and she searched my face as if she was making sure I really meant that. “Sugar does sound good,” she finally murmured, something that looked a lot like adoration in her eyes. Good job, Ari, I told myself. Because it was important to give yourself mental high fives when you were fucking amazing.
I’m dead 😂😂😂😂😂
