Leandra Parsons

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Drea was rough. Foul-mouthed. Hot-headed. And I’d never been so attracted to another before. Drea popped the buttons on her ripped jeans and pushed them down, stepping out of them. Her underwear matched her bra. Black. Cotton. Plain. Sexy as fuck. More tattoos ran down her legs. Jesus, was she covered from head to fucking toe?
Bratva Prince (Bratva, #2)
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