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Summary
“You could put on more clothes if you're so worried about the cold,” he teases.
Fermin pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of the alpha, only inches away. “Why should I?” he argues as his arms travel up to place themselves on Raphinha’s shoulders. “I know they're gonna come off anyways.”
Raphinha clicks his tongue. “You're such a brat.”
“You love it,” Fermin counters.
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Raphinha is the head of a crime syndicate, and Fermin is the escort he's overly attached to.