"God, your hands are freezing," she hissed against my lips as mine explored her waist. "Did you dunk them in a glacier on your way in?" "Battle wounds," I murmured, as if that explained everything. "I was emotionally wounded by your earlier donut slander." She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically, which gave me a perfect view of her neck. I kissed my way up it with a reverence usually reserved for fine wine and Beyoncé albums. "Mmm," she breathed. "You always this poetic or just when you're trying to get in my pants?" "I'm versatile," I whispered, one hand sliding up her thigh like it was a VIP pass. "Like a good multitool." "Are you comparing yourself to a Swiss Army knife right now?" she asked between kisses, eyebrows arching. "Yes. And this knife comes with a corkscrew and a lifetime warranty, baby." That made her laugh-God, that laugh. Like summer rain and chaos bottled up in human form. "You're such a dork." Published: 01/06/2025
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