He’s older and off limits. A village outcast.
And when he looks at me, I burn up hotter than his forge.
When the gruff blacksmith rescues me from a thunderstorm, what does my father do? He shames the man. He publicly warns him to stay far, far away from me.
I could die, especially since the blacksmith was a perfect gentleman. I’m the one who could barely keep her hands to herself; I’m the one still flushed and restless days later.
Because the blacksmith is big. He’s a mountai...
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He’s older and off limits. A village outcast.
And when he looks at me, I burn up hotter than his forge.
When the gruff blacksmith rescues me from a thunderstorm, what does my father do? He shames the man. He publicly warns him to stay far, far away from me.
I could die, especially since the blacksmith was a perfect gentleman. I’m the one who could barely keep her hands to herself; I’m the one still flushed and restless days later.
Because the blacksmith is big. He’s a mountain of muscle, and he makes the village carthorses look like skinny little ponies. When he took care of me, I never felt so safe.
So I don’t care what my father thinks. I don’t care about the village whispers.
I’d do anything to feel those big hands on me again.
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