Entangled with the Mafia Don
she slurred, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
The unexpected compliment, the blatant flirtation, was disarming. The she called me the Devil. In a twisted way, I liked it. The way she said it.. The aphrodisiac was clearly still wreaking havoc on her system, stripping away her inhibitions. A dangerous heat began to build within me, a primal response to her touch, her proximity.
She leaned closer, her breath warm against my neck. "Let me… touch you," she whispered, her hands moving with a clumsy urgency, trying to pull my shirt open.
Bab Populer