Kaja Salsman

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Kissing her while my hands wound through her soft, dark hair until we were both breathless. I miss her. My heart thuds, keening, wishing I could hold her close enough to feel her heartbeat right alongside mine. I miss her body, and I miss having the privilege of touching her and tasting her, but I miss her—her snark, her intelligence, her fire—most of all.
Stealing Home (Beyond the Play #3)
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