beneath the tie

Despite the years, regardless of how many things had changed, as Evan leaned back in the corner, he could still see the old Racks, could still place every bit of the old watering hole. More than that, he could remember sitting there, watching Sam work. Lifting his beer, his eyes glued to the sight of her backside, round and firm beneath the tie of her green apron, perfectly defined in faded blue jeans, hinted at in skirts drifting down to reveal Sam’s muscular legs.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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