Ripped Jeans

Ripped Jeans

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Nov 6, 2015
their lips brushed against each others and she felt so utterly disgusted that she had let herself fall for the boy in the black ripped jeans.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.

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