Even looking at him now, bedraggled, scruffy-jawed, and sleep-deprived, she wanted to strip the man’s clothes off and drag him back to her bed to do wild things to him. And she was stone-cold sober. She couldn’t imagine what she might have said or done with her inhibitions dulled by who knows how much whiskey she’d actually put away last night.

-T.J. Kline

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