Or else I may do something I’m pretty sure you’ll hate me for in the mornin’.” The low huskiness of his voice washed over her like a heated caress, sending shivers down her spine, and obliterating whatever defenses she’d manage to build against him.
"Or else I may do something I’m pretty sure you’ll hate me for in the mornin’.” The low huskiness of his voice washed over her like a heated caress, sending shivers down her spine, and obliterating whatever defenses she’d manage to build against him."
J.M. Stewart
QUOTURA.COM
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