“Why can’t I stop fucking you?” “Because we’re too good at it.” I can’t help laughing as I straighten my clothes. I’m fizzy and happy. “You’re going to get me fired.” “I would never get you fired.” My chin is lifted, and I look up at him as he looks down at me, a smile gentling his frustrated features. He’s so beautiful. I slide my fingers across the line of his cheek, lost in the fantasy of us together. “Are you staying here for fall break?” His eyes travel from mine to my hair, to my lips. “I don’t have any plans.” It’s true—I only have dreams of what I want to do and orders of what I must
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