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My tears had dried up by then, but they threatened to return at just the sight of my boyfriend.
One hand fisted in my hair while the other massaged my breast, his thumb going to work on soothing my nipple.
Blackmail you or something.
But he apparently hadn't.
" Returning to eating, I nodded to the mall and asked between bites, "How long have you done this?" "The survey thing.
Caressing my arm, breast, hip, thigh. Intentionally distracting me.
I tried not to imagine the awkward atmosphere at dinner where none of us talked.