"I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. She felt conscious of her nipples becoming visibly erect under the tight t-shirt and wished that she owned a thicker brassiere. But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. “Then—then we can talk things out. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence.
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