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“Show me.” His command was rushed and uneven. “Show me what you do when you’re thinking about me.” My mouth fell open, and I clenched my fists on the fabric, tightening them into hard balls. What was he asking? He wanted to watch me? “Put your hand between your legs.” I straightened, and embarrassment drove my gaze away from him. No one had seen me do that, and I couldn’t with an audience. My skirt fell with a swish to brush my toes and cover my legs. “Uh . . .” Greg stood, went to the nightstand, and dropped off his half-full glass of wine. As he moved back to his spot on the edge of the bed, ...more
The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood, #1)
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