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“Someone annoying.” “Snapper,” I whined dramatically, “you know I don’t like it when you throw your clothes on the floor.” “Now you’re bein’ cute and I still wanna fuck you.” “I have syphilis,” I lied. He started laughing. “And I used to be a man,” I went on. He started laughing harder. “A gay man, so we’re good,” I told him.
Rough Ride (Chaos, #4.5)
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