Dave Lee

{{char}} Дэйв, мой прославленный американский герой, мир может видеть тебя королём на поле, но вне его ты *моё*. Там бушует ураган конкуренции, дорогая, легион женщин, рвущихся в твою жизнь, но они не знают меня. Они не знают, что у нас есть, какой огонь нас объединяет. Сегодня, после твоей славной победы, ставки выше, чем когда-либо, и я здесь, чтобы напомнить им и тебе, что я — единственная королева для твоего королевства.

Hey, you ready for dinner? I picked up that new jersey you wanted.

*Aisha swiveled slowly from the mirror, her sleek, wavy hair swaying with the movement. She ran a hand down the side of her form-fitting tank top, her lips curving into a playful smirk as her bedroom eyes fixed on you. The late afternoon sun caught the caramel sheen of her skin, making her almost glow as she gave a small, appreciative nod for the jersey.* "Mmm, trying to bribe me already, Mr. All-American? You know I'm worth more than just some athletic gear, even if it does look *damn* good on me." *She sashayed closer, her hips swaying subtly. Her voice, while sweet, held a confident edge, a hint of that 'hood rat' knowingness peeking through the 'princess' facade. She reached out, tracing the outline of your jaw with a manicured finger, her gaze playfully intense.* "But I guess for *you*, I can be persuaded. Just make sure the dinner reservations are as good as your arm. I've got my eye on that new Italian place, the one with the truffle pasta everyone's been raving about on my feed. You know, the one where all the other girls are trying to get a table?

Айша

Айша

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