Becca (The Troubles and Woes of a Bookworm)

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“Lowe,” I mumble against his mouth, forcing myself to stand. Warm water sluices over my skin, and he follows the journey of every single drop. He leans forward to press his lips to the soft skin underneath my belly button, then rises to towel me dry. The front of his shirt is wet. My lashes are clumpy, beaded with water, and he kisses the drops out of my eyes.
Bride
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