Marcella Loza

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“Kiss my ass,” I sass back. In a sudden move, he stands, grips my shoulders, and tilts my body before his gaze dips. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, craning my neck over my shoulder. He playfully rakes his lower lip, his brows lifting. “Seeing if you have enough ass to kiss.”
Marcella Loza
Eastonnnnnn lmfaoooo
Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet, #2)
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