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“I'm not normal, Tate." "I know." Her hand was working its way under my shirt, then touching my skin, sliding over my chest and stomach. "Does this feel good?" I closed my eyes and nodded. "You're normal enough.” — Brenna Yovanoff
I'm not normal, Tate."
"I know." Her hand was working its way under my shirt, then touching my skin, sliding over my chest and stomach. "Does this feel good?"
I closed my eyes and nodded.
"You're normal enough.