my fictional man

my fictional man

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, May 30, 2026
I need you to pick," I said, holding up the black dress in my right hand and the wine red in my left. "Black or red?" He didn't even glance at the dresses. His eyes raked over me first-the done-up makeup, the styled hair, the jewelry catching the light-and then he tilted his head, that familiar glint of mischief darkening his gaze. "I'd rather have you wear nothing, baby."
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