Ali

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He moves closer, taking my body with his, until my bottom rib presses against the railing. Without a word, he scoops up all of my hair flailing about in the wind, and winds it into a bun at the base of my neck. He uses it like a joystick, gently tugging on it until my head rests against his chest.
Sinners Condemned (Sinners Anonymous, #2)
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