14 - why do I constantly ask why?

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When his hand touched mine, I got the same feeling as I have been getting whenever he touched me. That feeling as if he, this man beside me, was Lucifer himself. But he couldn't be because, well, he just couldn't.

"Lucifer," he spoke, making my blood run cold. "Oh, I am no devil, though. Maybe in bed." Oh, did he just say that? Wow, okay! I felt him lean closer to me. "So, why do you run from me? Do I scare you?"

"Scare me? Psh, who do you think I am?" I squealed when his hand came into contact with my thigh. Oh, was his hand very high up there. "Why are you following me?"

"Because I can't get you out of my head."

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