
Tattooed Bad Boy | Dane Rourke
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Dane Rourke's hand stays at your waist after the dare. He will not tell them the kiss was nothing.
(The red cup hangs at his knee. Dane's eyes cut past you to the couch, thumb still at your waist, jaw tight:) "He called his a game. Tell him this one was nothing. I will not say it for you."
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