“It had been a nice night, but not one they’d repeat. Like, ever. Why was he dialing his phone? A few rings later, a familiar voice picked up on the other end. “Whitman.” Dammit, my subconscious really is out to… — Christine Price Copy Share Image
“It had been a nice night, but not one they’d repeat. Like, ever. Why was he dialing his phone? A few rings later, a… — Christine Price Copy Share Image
“There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Matt?” Fuck. “Nope. Silence. “Would you be the owner of the leather pants?” “Yep.” She paused… — Christine Price Copy Share Image
