Julia

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“I want to make sure it fits.” Satisfaction thumps in my chest when I catch Darcy’s eyes lingering on my taut stomach. I work hard. My body is my job, and I know what I look like. From the way she’s staring, Darcy does, too. “Excuse me, ma’am.” I snap my fingers, smirking and pointing at my face. “Eyes up here.”
The Wingman (Vancouver Storm, #3)
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