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Chapter 88 A Scent Tells A Story

Caught in the afterglow, I have no way of knowing which was is up and which is down. My brain is nothing by white-noise. My body is a pleasant goo.

Neil’s spend is hot on my torso. His breathing is labored.

When he says, “Fuck,” again, it sounds less sexy, and more really pissed off.

“Neil?”

“What t...

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