Shannon Tucker

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He kisses me, a deeper passionate kiss that tingles and aches. I grip his hair, a whimper in my throat, and his tongue melds so perfectly against my tongue. Pleasured heat swarms me, and in one breath, I say, “My lips.” He eyes them. “Mine.” He goes in for another devouring kiss, and I’m such a goner in his clutch.
Unlucky Like Us (Like Us, #12)
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