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His SUV was nice, but I couldn’t care less about what a man drives, especially if they look anything like Malachi. He could be on a BMX bike talking about, “get on the handle bars,” and I would hop on. With skin the color of caramel that looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom, he could be on a damned skateboard for all I cared. I’d hop right on his back and ride like that shit was normal.
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