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“Ooh. A rich man. Maybe I should go flirt with him instead.”
He stiffens, his hand still on my throat. “Don’t. I’ll end the night in a jail cell.”
“You’re right. No smilin’. You’d probably start a stampede. Keep your smiles for me.”
“D’you want me to bend over for you as well, creampuff?”
He groans. “Yes,” he says. “Noises. Make noises.”
“Bury him, babe. He’s loving this.”
