Casey Trout

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The unholy fire in her eyes dares me to lean in closer. I grip the back of her neck, sliding my hand into her damp, silky hair. I need this girl in the worst way. Need to prove to her the way I feel. Have always felt. Her eyes widen. “We don’t kiss.” “We do now,” I tell her right before slamming my lips to hers.
Ride the Sky (Runaway Ranch, #4)
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