Leandra Parsons

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“You touched my girl,” I growl, low in my throat.  He flinches. “It’s not like I wanted to. I’d look like an asshole for turning down her request. She probably thinks I’m some kind of perv that can’t get close to women.” “Why would that matter?” That startles him, his gaze snapping to mine. “What?”
A Twisted Arrangement (Twisted Vows, #2)
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