"wouldn’t mind, none. my name on 'yer lips." it’s his 𝑙augh that eggs cole on. smooth like butter ——— 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. leans in all 𝑐onspiratorial—like, gaze crinkling with mirth. "——and, well .. if ya’
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⠀⠀“ oh, please ! ” ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ compliment does earn a sweet laugh, hand placed over chest &̲ everything. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ “ here, let's share mine. i promise i won't snitch about a dashing cowboy and his pink—petal fan. ”
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