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“That”—she points again—“is how three men in their thirties blow off some steam? Why can’t you just be a normal male idiot and make me endure chasing you around while you try to fuck all the buckle bunnies?” I stare back at her, a little taken aback by her outburst. “Is that really what you’d prefer?”
Flawless (Chestnut Springs, #1)
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