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So before you try anything, before you try and fuck with my fiancé and his legacy, just know that if you go low, I’ll tunnel to the core of the fucking earth.”
I want to be his.
“Why, because it hurts your brain?”
“I can use smaller words if you need.”
Unfortunately, that means over an hour in this crowded closet, not making a sound.
“Snow wasn’t in the forecast this morning,”
“You have an entire closet of snacks for . . . me?”
The roads are a mess. We’ll need to stay here until we, uhm... Until they plow.”
“It makes me notice things, hyperfixate on small, not even really red flags, but things that, if I had to deal with them for years and years, would probably drive me insane.”
The curse of reading one too many Omegaverses or something.
“Fuck, your tits are even better than I thought.”
“Fuck, kitten,”
“Yeah, just like that.”
if I’m going to fuck you like I want to, I’m doing it on his desk. This is the kind of revenge I can get behind,”
“Bend, baby.”
“Uh-uh, kitten,”
“Now, I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to fuck you hard, and I’m going to watch your ass move as you take me because, honey, I’m telling you now, I’ve dreamt of nothing more than your ass while I take you from behind for fucking months.
A man moaning? Hot.
“We might need to stay the night here.”
“Sleep, kitten,”
“We were staying late to work on a proposal, and the next thing we knew, we were snowed in.
“I much prefer your clothes off,”
He growls a frustrated noise that kind of turns me on, even though this is neither the time nor the place.
“That’s it, baby. God.”
“You look so pretty like this, on your knees, taking me.”
“Ride,”
“That’s it, baby. Do whatever feels good.”
would you want to, uh.” He pauses, nerves on his face getting more intense, more noticeable. “Go out with me?”
“I fucked my boss.”
“He’s been stocking my snacks.”
“What?”
“I have this snack drawer. He’s been restocking it without me knowing. In his office, there’s an entire closet of bulk
snack boxes.
I get this version of him that he doesn’t give to just anyone.
All my life, I’ve been searching for that moment, that person we hear about from the second we can understand relationships. The one. The love of your life. The person with whom you feel an unbreakable bond and a kinship. The person who holds tight to the other end of the invisible string tying you together.
“Dance with you?”
“Did you just say in cahoots?”
“Yes . . . ?”
“God, you’re ...
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“I’m just glad you didn’t get a shot in. You’d cause some damage, and I’d rather not have to visit you in prison. Conjugal visits don’t sound that fun, in my opinion,”
My makeup!”
“Don’t give a shit about your makeup,”
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,”
“You’re insane,”