“You’re playing with fire,” he said, not looking up.
“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” My First Sex Teacher Vol. 79 -Naughty America 2...
“Maybe I like the burn.”
No signature. No explanation.
“I think he’s honest,” I replied.
Last month, an old envelope arrived with no return address. Inside was a single page torn from Wuthering Heights . A line underlined in faded red ink: “You’re playing with fire,” he said, not looking up