The Snow in New York
Language: en
Every time I slept with Carter Sterling, I took care of protection myself. Once it was too intense, broke at the end. He teased: "Joanna, want to have my baby?" My face slightly red, just wanted to explain. He patted my butt, carelessly said: "Don't be silly, you know I won't marry a girl who plays loose." I froze on the spot. Left that city the next day. Reunited five years later. He skillfully fished out a strawberry-flavored packet from my bag, shook it. "Relive the old times?" I politely refused: "No thanks, my husband is waiting for me at home." ...