She accepted on the spot. He wasn’t her dog. She had stress of her own to release at the end of the day, and it was ever so easy to imagine stripping off and getting straight down on all fours. Grabbing it was out of the question, but he did allow himself to slow and pause at the end of the bench. In the past weeks, not only the weather had been dull; her days had settled into a comfortable, but monotonous pattern. Everyone called it “the cross,” in any case. Read 318744 times |
Rated 96.7 % |
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