Inseparable by Siobhan Davis EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Authors: Siobhan Davis
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Angelina
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I emit a high-pitched shriek, almost jumping out of my skin. Blood
rushes to my head as I spin around in my bedroom. Devin has his face
pressed into the glass of the French doors, peering in. His nose is all
smushed up, and he’s wearing his trademark shit-eating grin. Dropping my
book bag on the floor beside my bed, I walk over, flinging the doors open
with gusto. “Dev, what the hell? Are you trying to give me a coronary?”
He saunters into my room, flopping down on the bed like he owns it,
his customary grin still planted firmly on his lips. “Hey, baby doll. Come
sit.” He pats the bed, stretching out his long, sculptured torso before
propping up on his side.
I perch on the edge of the mattress, slapping his leg. “Don’t call me
that. I’m not one of your conquests.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a faithful pet.” He smirks,
attempting to smother his laughter as he watches the scowl appear on my
face.
“Don’t push your luck, asshole.”
“Ange.” He pats the bed alongside him again. “Come here.” He looks
at me through hooded lashes, and his green eyes smolder in that intense way
of his. Strands of his black hair fall over his forehead as his gaze bores a
hole deep inside me.
Devin defines drop-dead gorgeous. With his sinful good looks, ripped
body, and dark brooding intensity, it’s no wonder every girl in town hangs
off his every word.
Lost under the magnetism of his penetrating focus, I forget how to
breathe. “Come. Here,” he mouths this time, failing to hide his knowing
smirk.
Yeah. Dev’s well aware of the effect he has on the female population,
myself included.
I sigh but give up fighting the inevitable. Toeing off my shoes, I crawl
up the bed, dropping down beside him. He reaches out, twirling strands of
my long, dark hair around his finger. His eyes hold mine as his fingers
weave in and out of my hair, and I zone out, like I’ve been drugged.
Clamping my lips shut, I stifle the blissful moan building at the back of my
throat. His hands feel so good in my hair. My blood pressure soars,
butterflies go crazy in the pit of my stomach, and a familiar ache throbs
between my legs.
I shouldn’t have these feelings for Devin, but I’ve been harboring them
for years, and I’m sure I’m going to spontaneously combust one of these
days. Pent-up frustration and potent longing are my constant companions.
An incessant reminder of all that is denied to me.
He’s oblivious, of course.
I’m in an exclusive ten percent club—that minuscule pool of girls in
senior class who have yet to sample the Devin experience.
Although I know all about it.
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