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... just let go?
What kind of twisted game is this?
Julian Fairchild kissed her lips, didn’t say a word, yet the mirth in his eyes was impossible to conceal.
"Oh, you." Maeve Lane nudged him, the blush on her face hadn’t completely faded. She looked less angry and more shy.
"So you can feel... what it’s like to be hot-headed." Julian Fairchild gently licked her earlobe; his voice seductive like a Demon King.
Maeve Lane drew her hand back from hugging him, dry ...
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