It occurs to me then that I should be embarrassed by the fact that I haven’t shaved down there in ages. Back when I was still a normal, albeit irresponsible and rebellious teenager, I used to shave it regularly. But after my parents’ death, it never even occurred to me to do anything about the downstairs business. Zach doesn’t mind, though. If his groan is anything to go by, he likes it. He takes a quick whiff of my untamed curls before covering me with his mouth. He was right; I was worrying for nothing. Anything worth seeing is going to be in his wicked, sucking mouth. Draping my thigh over
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