His hair was especially mussed. So much so that her fingertips tingled with the need to grab and plunder the curls and let her mouth work the wicked quirk of his lips that verged on a smile. But it was his eyes that hit her the hardest. A settled gray that would forever be stamped Happy Place in her mind.

Autore: Taryn Elliott

His hair was especially mussed. So much so that her fingertips tingled with the need to grab and plunder the curls and let her mouth work the wicked quirk of his lips that verged on a smile. But it was his eyes that hit her the hardest. A settled gray that would forever be stamped Happy Place in her mind. - Taryn Elliott




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