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Chapter 67

  • ~Foxy~
  • I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Ambrose Crestwood is sitting across the room on the plush, crushed velvet couch, stretched out like a mafia god. His hard chest stretches the confines of that dress shirt and I just want him to rip it off and pounce me. He’s so fucking sexy, but what is he doing here?
  • “I came to talk.”
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