Erin

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The heat that arced between us when our gazes collided once more scorched me, razed me down to the fucking ground until I wasn’t a Five Pointer, wasn’t a veteran of too many battles to count, wasn’t a Catholic, wasn’t a sniper, wasn’t anything other than one thing—a man. My heart pounded. Her man.
Filthy Rich (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #2)
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