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Fifty two

George’s fingers traced the inside of Thalia’s thigh slowly.

“George, let's eat and have a dance, please…

“Sssssh..”

“George…” she called, her voice trembling, her nails digging into the polished wood of the table.

He smirked, leaning closer, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about since you walked out in that dress tonight?”

She swallowed, her body arching instinctively toward his touch.

“W-what?”

His ...

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