Brisace

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“What are you, my personal hitta now?” I smiled up at him, becoming more comfortable with looking this Greek god of a man in the eyes. “I can be.” His eyes cascaded from my face down my body and back up. “I’m dead ass though. Next time you need a nigga handled, I don’t care if it’s for him looking at you disrespectfully, hit me. Or, shit, just hit me.”
Save Room for Us (Crenshaw Kings Book 7)
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