They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. You understand me, Charcoal. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. Ireton is welcome to search every room in my house if he pleases," said Jonathan, in a tone of bravado.
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