Come over tonight,” he said, softly enough so only I could hear him. “Wear the roses.”I shook my head. “I’m filthy. All covered in roses and Faire dirt. I should wash up first.”“No.” He brushed his mouth against mine one more time before murmuring into my ear. “I can’t wait that long. Come over now. I’ll take care of you.
-Jen DeLuca
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