Stephanie Munguia

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I could just lean my head down. I could. But I don’t. In a swift, natural move, I cup the back of her thighs, and I hoist Jane up against my body—we’re eye-level, her legs instinctively spreading apart. Wrapping around my waist, gripping tight. Her hands fly around the back of my neck and nestle in my hair.
Tangled Like Us (Like Us, #4)
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