Leandra Parsons

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But then she’s grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me down to her lips, and any lingering unhappiness is immediately driven away by the lust between us roaring back to life. “So sweet,” I whisper against her lips, sliding my tongue in her mouth because I already know she’s filthy enough to want it. Sure enough, she sucks her taste off my tongue with a relieved moan. And again, she’s pulling me closer, silently telling me she
1 Last Shot (The Fight Game, #4)
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