Leandra Parsons

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A breath later, our lips collide, and I recognize her touch as if we’d kissed a thousand times before. My chest expands, her light slipping through the cracks I never thought would be mended. It starts out slow, tentative. Nothing more than a peck we’re too scared to turn into more. But unlike last time, she parts her lips, and my tongue meets hers.
The Deepest End of Love (The Brightest Light #3)
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