Marie Andersson

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It wasn’t like my friends to be serious or worried. I sat up and secured the quilt around my narrow waist, resting my chin on my knuckles thoughtfully. “I’m listening.” (I wasn’t. I was thinking about who I wanted to fuck tonight.) Maybe Arabella. No, definitely Arabella. She was the hottest piece of ass that was still single in town.
The Hunter (Boston Belles, #1)
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