Not a good sign.“Good.” She came closer, slow steps, like approaching a wild animal. That probably wasn’t smart. She needed to calm down, and no... walk like she was approaching a vibration-sensitive bomb. “Can you talk?” She knew they could, but she needed to be sure.“Yes,” Art said, voice a guttural, quiet bark.“Yes,” Matt said. Good, she was more worried about her gentle giant than Arturo.Her gentle giant. She was already thinking about them like that again. God, she was pathetic. No no, that. Bill is standing in front of my doorway. I suppress most of my first reaction, but still checkout his substantial package. I never saw Bill look this hot at work. He must work out with weights in addition to jogging. He is tall, muscular with a clearly defined six-pack, handsome, and confident. Exactly my type of guy.There’s a light sheen of sweat on his tan skin. Apparently, Bill jogged over here. He’s wearing a white cutoff muscle shirt that ends at his elbows, navy-blue satin running shorts. More

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