Keane
He glanced briefly at Max, smiled, and then leaned into me.
“You’re ours,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck. I flinched, focusing on my breathing, wishing my body wasn’t responding to him in the way that it was. “You’re ours, sweet girl, so you’d better not let anyone else touch the honey.” He lowered his voice, breath warm in my ear. “Got it?”
“Fuck you.”
“Name a time and place, kitten.”
Before I could respond, Max spoke up. “No harm done, Keane.” He put his hands in the air as if to surrender. “I was just trying to be friendly.”
Bab Populer