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“You gonna tell me your name now?” he asked into my hair. One of his big hands cupped the entire back of my skull, making me feel almost nauseated with pleasure. “No.” I pulled away and pretended to preoccupy myself with Otto’s mangey jacket. “Blue sounds nice enough in your mouth.” “Tastes good too. You wanna kiss it off my lips?”
Asking for Trouble (The Fallen Men, #8)
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