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The siren sounds off and I leap into the air and silently cheer because Holden is sleeping on Penny’s chest. She lightly chuckles while I sit back down. Whispering, she says, “Your nipples are hard.” “Are they?” I glance down and sure enough, there they are, standing to a point. “Would you look at that, even when we’re not in the same room he can make them hard.”
He's Not My Type (The Vancouver Agitators, #4)
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