“We’ll both regret it.” He shakes his head, but there’s more than hunger in his eyes as he stares at my lips. “Naturally,” I whisper. But knowing I’ll regret it doesn’t stop me from wanting it—wanting him. Regretting is a problem for future Violet. “Fuck it.” One second he’s out of reach and the next his mouth is on mine, hot and insistent.
I. Am. DEAD.
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