Simran Nagpal

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The sun reflects off her dark, shiny locks of hair. Despite having worked a full shift at Pembroke, her hair is smooth. I want to run my fingers through the strands. For just a moment, I let my eyes linger on her lips. They’re shiny from lip gloss, making it impossible not to wonder what she’d taste like if I leaned in and took her lips in mine.
In Good Company (Pembroke Hills #1)
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