Run my fingers through his hair. Caressing, combing, twirl it around my fingers. What I would do to touch him. I would grab a hold and never let go. Even just one night, would be my fantasies fulfilled. Anticipation and lust cloud my senses every time I see him. I shiver from my head to my toes. He is the unreachable. The untouchable. I can fantasize all I want, but I doubt the night will come. I can still dream. And I will.

Written by Becca Carty

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