“Maybe I should prove it to you. Get down on my knees like I promised. I could show you just how desirable you are.” The hand she had braced against the bookshelf dropped to Tansy’s hip, fisting the fabric, bunching the satin between her fingers and dragging it up Tansy’s thigh. “I’ve lost sleep thinking about you, you know that? Thinking about how you might taste, the sounds you’d make if I was lucky enough to get my mouth on you.” Gemma lowered her forehead to Tansy’s, and her breath—whiskey warm and cinnamon sweet—wafted against Tansy’s mouth, making her ache from the tip of her nose down
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