Scouring through covers on the Wattpad main page, clicking random profiles of authors, desperately clicking on anything that might pique your interest. We've all desperately sought that next one.
The one you can't put down because you relate so much...
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Mila pressed a soft kiss to Sally's lips. As her eyes fluttered close, it was already over. That was unacceptable. If they had to have a last kiss, it would be a fucking mindblowing one. She cupped her neck and pulled her close. With Mila's body entirely pressed up to hers, Sally kissed her. Hot, fierce, desperate, all in.
Mila didn't seem to have any complaints. Her fingers got lost in Sally's hair, pulling her impossibly closer as Sally teased her with her tongue. How utterly convenient that she had spent the last months finding out exactly how Mila liked it.
She nibbled on Mila's bottom lip. The quiet moan was barely audible but Sally felt it. She felt how Mila's grip tightened even more, she felt the shudder running through the woman's body, she felt how she pressed her hips against hers.
Her fingers were itching to touch her perfect curves. Only in the very back of her mind, the voice of reason was trying to keep her from getting thrown out of an airport. Their lips broke apart but Sally kissed her again. Gently, this time, and lingering. Mila then leaned her forehead against Sally's.
"Wow," Mila whispered.
Sally prided herself in Mila's tousled appearance in the blush on her cheeks, in the erratic breathing, in the clouded and dilated eyes.
That was power.
Her warm breath washed over Sally's face and Milas's nose brushed against hers. Sally pressed a last kiss to her lips. She resisted the urge to repeat that a hundred more times.
Instead, she stroked over Mila's cheek and then slowly moved away. "Have a safe flight," she whispered.
A young teenage boy stared at them open-mouthed and a middle-aged woman looked at them in a derogative manner. Sally didn't know if it was because of their gayness or public make-out but didn't care. She cared about very few things that day.
"Thanks." Mila didn't speak any louder than she. "I... Thanks for making this so beautiful. I'll miss you."
Sally didn't have it in her to reply. After a tight, long hug, Mila began to walk. She turned around just before disappearing out of sight and offered a last wave.
Then, she was gone. Sally remained rooted to her spot for a couple of seconds and then slowly walked to the closest available seat. She felt weak, somehow torn apart. As if a vital part of her had just been ripped out and was about to enter a fucking flight to Spain.
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To read the rest of The Girl From Spain, head over to mylasstory. Leave her some love before moving on and also make sure to add this book to your library for more recommendations!
