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Willa Rosemount had always been my type, with thick thighs and an ass that didn’t quit. But in the past few years, she’d grown even curvier. When had she gotten so damn hot? This hard-on wasn’t going anywhere if I kept thinking about her like that.
H. Kingman. She was wearing my jersey. Every bit of blood I had rushed out of my extremities and straight to my cock. The couple of brain cells I had left in my head growled like a cocaine bear inhabited by a very possessive demon. Mine.
But fuck me, I wanted to see Willa wearing my name and number and absolutely nothing else while I enthusiastically consented the shit out of her.
“If you're that enthusiastic about slurping noodles, I can only imagine how good you'll be at other things you can do with your mouth.”
And just to prove it to myself and Hayes, I jumped up on the counter and kissed him.
“Yeah, I am, sweetheart, and you're such a good girl for taking my big cock so well.”

