Why was it so important to stay in the Presidential Suite? Marvin wondered. He did not care one way or the other about it. Jessica wanted it though more than anything; obviously or he would not be going through this shameless display. Really? A tattoo? He hated them; at least he would not have to see his, unless he looked at his back in the mirror. It could be worse. It could have been a butterfly. He would tolerate this tramp-stamp, with its sapphire-studded accent, knowing that he would be fucking Jessica’s brains out soon in the suite.


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