Sydney Franklin

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“Gemma.” “Fuck,” Gemma muttered, panting softly against Tansy’s throat. “’s even better than I imagined.” Trying to string her muzzy thoughts together was an exercise in futility. “What is?” Gemma lifted her head and stared into Tansy’s eyes, her lids low and her smile wicked. “The way you said my name.”
The Fiancée Farce
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