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... > I just sat there like a fucking ghost in a silk robe that clung too tight to my overheated skin, trying not to breathe too loud or shift too much. Trying to convince myself the tea in my hand was hot, that my body wasn’t flushed from memory, from ache, from him.
But it was a lie. All of it. Because my thighs were already wet. My pussy was already throbbing. And every breath that touched my lungs was tainted with his scent.
Across the table, Tasha was doing what Tasha did best.. ...
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