Stephanie Sutherland

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I got a text from her that she was already downstairs in the car when I stepped out of my apartment and made my way down the elevator and into the car. “Hey,” I said. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” “Like a bag of dicks.” “How does a bag of dicks sleep?” she asked, and her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and I groaned.
Only Mine (Honey Mountain, #5)
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