Six-foot-five company, with blond hair and sea-green eyes that held too many emotions for me to pin down. Locke spread his hands. “I come in peace.” I didn’t want him to come in peace. I wanted him to come inside— Wow. Okay. Talk about a mood shift. I kept my gaze ferocious to disguise the fact that the end of that thought was ambiguous. Nash and me . . . we’d spent way too many nights rolling around my bed, drinking rum, and whispering dirty fantasies in each other’s ears, all of them hot as hell. Every single one of them about Locke. Nash had a thing for watching Locke fuck me. For fucking
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