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Chapter 117 - One Hundred and Seventeen
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Malachi’s POV
I pressed Alicia against the dusty wall of the old room, my lips crashing into hers. The air smelled like mothballs and forgotten books, but all I cared about was her. Her mouth was soft, warm, tasting like the cherry lip balm she always wore. My hands roamed up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist under her thin shirt. We had to be quiet. The house was full of people downstairs, laughing and talking like nothing was happening up here.
She ...
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