Leandra Parsons

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his hand, the one that had been in my hair when I fell asleep, was tightly gripping my hip. “Careful with that hand there, Lily.” His voice was raspy and guttural, only making this entire situation worse. Why did he have to be so…so hot? Literally, of course. It was roasting beneath these sheets. “I wasn’t trying…I’m sorry.”
Alive at Night (Wildflower, #1)
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