. . . there was a softness to Cash’s gaze that made her want to lean into it. It felt like being stroked with a paintbrush, all the way down her body, leaving everything tingling in its wake.
. . . there was a softness to Cash’s gaze that made her want to lean into it. It felt like being stroked with a paintbrush, all the way down her body, leaving everything tingling in its wake.
. . . there was a softness to Cash’s gaze that made her want to lean into it. It felt like being stroked with a paintbrush, all the way down her body, leaving everything tingling in its wake.
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