Nathaniel nodded, making the long fall of auburn hair bounce like it was on a string. I was wetter now, more open, but Richard still had to work his way in, push, and shove, for each tight, wet, inch. He traced a finger around the opening to my body. I mean nobody serves cream and sugar anymore on a little tray with little tongs, right?Nathaniel was wearing one of his favorite pairs of blue jeans, so faded that they were turning white in places.
His eyes flicked down the page, and he shook his head. He grabbed his pants and went for the door. There was one in New Orleans and one in California, but they wouldn't take this job for the same reason we wouldn't. I'd found that if I wore the extra ammo on my left thigh, it was harder to get to.
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