Danielle

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His hand splayed over my hip, as if he couldn’t seem to stop himself from touching me, not that I was complaining. If that couple hadn’t interrupted us, I would have happily ridden him—any part of him—until I couldn’t stand. Suddenly, saying goodbye to my brother seemed significantly less important. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d disappeared on him. He’d understand. Someday.
Hard Hitter (Wild Card, #3)
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