Simran Nagpal

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He presses his palms to my inner thighs and spreads them even farther apart. Even though they’re dimmed, the pendant lights that hang above the kitchen island shine directly over us. There’s no doubt he can see all of me. If it were anyone else, I’d be embarrassed to be on display like this. But I want him to see me, something I never expected to crave.
In Good Company (Pembroke Hills #1)
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