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“Rule number one: no names,” he said.
I kept looking at him as he spoke and tried not to get lost in the sensations that his voice stirred inside me. My silence was my answer . . . my acknowledgment.
“Rule number two: masks stay on.”
I nodded this time. Though there was hardly room to do that. I was still in his arms, my body stuck to his and his bulge pressing into my hips. It was hard to remain focused but I did . . . barely. They were decent rules, logical perhaps. It was better to not know each other.
“Rule number three?” I asked before a soft moan escaped my lips.
“We never have to feel guilty about tonight.”
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