Jae Stanford-Gant

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I fuck up again when I keep my eyes on the road but lift her hand, pressing it to my lips.  “My place,” I say against her skin. And when her entire body relaxes, when she becomes quiet once more but not in a worrisome way, I should be concerned by how my body also relaxes.  But I’m too far gone to.
The Fall of Bradley Reed (Seasons of Revenge, #3)
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