“And stop whispering into my hair. You might chip a tooth, I’ve got so much crap sprayed in there.” “I know,” he whispered, sending a shiver down her side. “You smell like ethanol. I can feel my brain cells dying.”
“And stop whispering into my hair. You might chip a tooth, I’ve got so much crap sprayed in there.” “I know,” he whispered, sending a shiver down her side. “You smell like ethanol. I can feel my brain cells dying.”
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