“Glass slippers are so last fairy tale.” “Oh yeah?” He moves even closer, his eyes kindling as they sweep over me from head to toe. “What about underwear?” I lift a brow in perfect Hudson Vega fashion. “I’m pretty sure that depends on the girl.” And just like that, his eyes darken, the heat in them going from a blaze to an inferno in the space between one heartbeat and the next. “What kind of girl are you?” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. I let the question linger in the air for one second, two, before leaning in so that my lips brush along the line of his jaw right before I
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