Morgan Irvin

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His lips pressed tenderly against my forehead, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses. “I love your eyes,” he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper that made me ache. “The first time I saw them as a kid, I knew I’d found magic. I’ve spent every moment since then searching for them in every crowd.”
The Pucking Wrong Guy (Pucking Wrong, #2)
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