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“Gattina, if I were reprimanding you, you’d know it. I’d have you bare-assed, lying over my lap as I spank the defiance out of you.”
gattina—my little kitten.
“when you say romance books, do you mean smut? Or closed-door romance?” If I were drinking something, I’d have spit it out all over the floor.
We aren’t judging if you read closed-door romances either, but the four of us are smut sluts, so it’d be nice if we could include you in our monthly book club.”
“I knew setting you two up was the best idea I’ve ever had.” My head whips back to stare at him, dumbstruck. “Merry Christmas, Kitty-Kat,” he
The name of the book is Tremble.1
I miss Alessandro. I am not okay.
I miss Kat.

