You little exhibitionist, you, I said, you like the idea of me marking you for the first time in front of all these people. You're not going to faint. I shook my head and put my hands gently over hers, I was going to have to get her off me. The gunshot, like all the others, was loud, but not nearly as loud as it could have been.
He clapped me on the back, the closest he'd ever get to hugging one of his people, but I took it for the compliment it was. Sitting down on the curb, I was happy that I was wearing jeans, jogging shoes, and a T-shirt. I could see down the line of his body, and he looked tired, spent. But hormones are traitorous little bastards.
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