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such idiots? But I know it’s not just the schedule that’s getting to me. It’s… fuck. I heave out a breath. It’s the loneliness. I don’t want a random hook-up. I don’t need a professional to meet me in Canada. I need a life. A real life with real people and a real relationship.
Holy Holiday Heaven. Standing before me is a lush-as-fuck angel with evergreen eyes, berry-red lips, and a body I’d write to Santa for.
Her whispered voice is all the confirmation I need. This woman is mine, and I’m gonna find a way to keep her.
He’s about to do it. Michael Kesso is about to taste me. My eyes widen. Cake! He’s about to taste my cake!
She’s the prettiest creature I’ve ever seen, and I can’t fathom why anyone would let her out in public alone.
If there was another man, he’s done now. He let her out, let her cross my path, and that’s his own fault. Because if she was mine, I’d keep her tied to my side. Literally, if necessary.
“Please don’t cry, Baby Cakes.” The pressure of his hand on my back increases. “I can’t take you crying.”
I’m sorry for making you cry. I know you don’t know a thing about me, but I’m pretty sure I’m half in love with you and I’d rather die than make you cry again.
Holy Mrs. Claus, my Christmas wish just came true.
Sweet snowballs, her tits are amazing.
“Let me taste your tits.”
His words snap me back to the moment.
“Taste...
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“Please,” he begs against my throat. “Let me tast...
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“Take more,” she sobs. “Take whatever you want.”
Images of our life together flash through my mind. Diamond rings. A white dress. Sunny beaches. Tiny babies.
“Good girl,” I growl.
But I don’t pay my manager to be my morality police, I pay him to make me money. And I’d bet that ratings are gonna skyrocket when people find out that I found my wife on Second Bite. So, if anything, he should be thanking me for my behavior.
“Never run from me,” I growl between kisses. “Don’t ever run away from me again.”
“Good girls get sweet things. Naughty girls get it rough. And you’ve been very naughty.”
“Did you say I had mistletoe eyes?”
“Uh-huh.” I stroke my hand down her back. “They’re green, like mistletoe.” I palm her ass. “And I want to kiss everything below them.”