Desiree

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“Well. We have a lot of things to still talk about. Like why everyone here wears such tight pants,” I say as I look around at all the guards. “Not that I’m complaining.” Slade cocks a brow, but the last of the anger seems to edge out from his eyes. “The only ass I want you checking out is mine.” I give off a lazy shrug. “I can’t make any promises,”
Glow (The Plated Prisoner, #4)
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