Maxwell Panetta

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She started off stiff, but she moved with natural precision, her body turning in sync and her feet following mine without missing a beat. However, the longer the music played, the more her movements flowed. Steel melted into silk, and the wariness in her eyes softened into something that sent a rush of heat through my veins. Lessons were technical. Impersonal. This? This was as personal as it got.
King of Sloth (Kings of Sin, #4)
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