Kutipan
“Do. Not. Touch. Her,” Bray growls again. Now that I think about it, everything he’s said since I came into his office has been a growl
“You two, I want you out. Don’t ever touch her. Got it?”
“Do you really whore yourself out?” he asks, making his way over to me. I’m shocked when he easily lifts me from his chair, sitting me on his desk and sliding himself between my legs.
“Why? You looking?” I ask.
“Why? You looking?” I ask.
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