2
" What I can make people do . . . it’s not what they want to do. It may sound corny, but I want people to like me for me, not because I can force them to or because of who my mom is or who I am in the Family. You know?”
He raised his green gaze to my blue one. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Lila. You don’t care about any of that.”
“Just one of the things?” I teased, trying to make him laugh a little, just so he’d forget his guilt and grief, if only for a few moments.
“Just one.” His voice took on a low, husky note. “I could list all the others, if you want.”
My gaze locked with his and my soulsight kicked in, showing me all of his emotions. And I felt them, too—more intensely than I ever had before. His heart still ached with that soul-crushing guilt, and it always would. But that hot spark I’d seen inside him that first day at the Razzle Dazzle had finally ignited into a roaring fire, burning as hot and bright as my own emotions were right now.
Devon hesitated, then leaned in, just a little. My breath caught in my throat.
He inched forward a little more. I wet my lips.
He came even closer, so close that his warm breath brushed my cheek and his scent flooded my nose, that sharp, fresh tang of pine. Clean and crisp, just like he was, inside and out. I sighed. Suddenly, my hands itched to touch him, to trace my fingers over the sharp planes of his face, and then slide them lower, over all of his warm, delicious muscles . . .
“Lila,” he whispered.
I shivered, loving the sound of my name on his lips—lips that were heartbreakingly close to mine— "
― Jennifer Estep , Cold Burn of Magic (Black Blade, #1)
3
" Eli . . .” I rasped. I lost track of where his kisses landed, where his fingers touched, and grew too comfortable in his arms. “I can’t.”“You can,” he urged, pulling back and grinding my hips against his. Heat quickly rushed to my cheeks. “I have you. I found you, and I’m not letting you go.”“You don’t—” Eli’s mouth crashed down on mine, stealing a kiss, and I freakin’ lost it. His mouth was absolutely sinful and there was nothing gentle about him, either. Eli was out for something good and was determined to get it. Euphoria sliced through my drunken haze and I grinned as I kissed him back. When his hands slid up my dress and his tongue pushed past my teeth, I moaned loudly and wrapped my legs around his waist.Just this. I can do this.Eli’s fingers inched closer to my panties and I threw my head back against the building to catch my breath.Oh, my God.Lights flashed behind my eyes and the red and blue spots showered over me like rain. “I-I have a wedding tomorrow. My friend’s,” I muttered, almost pulling away. To my ears, it didn’t even sound like a coherent sentence.“Cielo, I don’t really care.” Eli glanced up at me from his place between my flushed breasts and leaned in to suck my bottom lip into his mouth.“I’m drunk.”“Good.” His hand beneath my dress tugged and I heard the audible rip of my panties. “So am I. "
5
" I glanced over to where Seth looked like he wanted to bang his head against the wall. “Hey.”
The blond continued to smile, while his friend continued to stare at me.
Seth sighed again. “The one grinning like he’s crazy is Deacon, and the other one is Luke.”
“We’re friends of his—of Seth’s,” Deacon threw in, and Seth did not look like they were friends.
“This is Josie,” Seth continued. “Please don’t be weird and scare her.”
“Be weird?” Deacon rolled those gray eyes. “Ha. Whatever, dude. All you need to know about me is that I’m like a dolphin in a sea of less-smart fish,” he announced, spreading his arms with a flourish.
Luke turned to him slowly as his eyebrows inched up his forehead. “What?”
He shrugged. “Just saying I have a lot in common with dolphins. They’re smart. I’m smart.”
Seth rubbed his hand down his face. "
― Jennifer L. Armentrout , The Return (Titan, #1)
7
" I’ll find out who’s inside. Wait here and keep alert!’ Hallam rasped. He skirted the main path to skulk towards one of the shuttered windows on the building’s eastern wall. There was a crack in the wood and he gently inched closer to peer inside.
There was a hearth-fire with a pot bubbling away and a battered table made of a length of wood over two pieces of cut timber. A small ham hung from the rafters, away from the rats and mice. He couldn’t see anyone but there was a murmur of voices. Hallam leaned in even closer and a young boy with hair the colour of straw saw the movement to stare. It was Little Jim. Thank God, the child was safe. Snot hung from his nose and he was pale. Hallam put a finger to his lips, but the boy, not even four, did not understand, and just gaped innocently back.
Movement near the window. A man wearing a blue jacket took up a stone bottle and wiped his long flowing moustache afterwards. His hair was shoulder-length, falling unruly over the red collar of his jacket. Tied around his neck was a filthy red neckerchief. A woman moaned and the man grinned with tobacco stained teeth at the sound. Laughter and French voices. The woman whimpered and Little Jim turned to watch unseen figures. His eyes glistened and his bottom lip dropped. The woman began to plead and Hallam instinctively growled.
The Frenchman, hearing the noise, pushed the shutter open and the pistol’s cold muzzle pressed against his forehead.
Hallam watched the man’s eyes narrow and then widen, before his mouth opened. Whatever he intended to shout was never heard, because the ball smashed through his skull to erupt in a bloody spray as it exited the back of the Frenchman’s head.
There was a brief moment of silence.
‘28th!’ Hallam shouted, as he stepped back against the wall. ‘Make ready! "
― David Cook , Blood on the Snow (The Soldier Chronicles, #3)
10
" She shivered under his touch, desire dampening her panties and making her clench her thighs together in an attempt to find some relief. His devilish hands relaxed their grip on her hips and slid around to cup her ass, pulling her close. Thick, hard evidence of his desire pressed against her belly. God, she wanted this man, and not just to silent the stressful thoughts always swirling in her head. She wanted him, not just the divine moment of oblivion that blocked out everything else.The realization scared her and brought some unwanted reality into the room. " We shouldn't be doing this." " Why?" He made quick work of the buttons on her petal-pink cashmere sweater and parted her cardigan. Sean gave a soft growl as he stared at her silver satin pushup bra that presented her boobs like an all-you-can-lick buffet. " Because I'm your employee?" He licked his lips and slid his thumb across the satin covering her hard nipple." Yes," she said, sighing. An answer to his question or a response to even the lightest of touches? Both." Easy fix." He snapped the front closure of her bra and her tits tumbled out. " I quit." Bending forward, he lifted one heavy globe and took the hard nub into his hot mouth. Fire sizzled through her veins and it felt so good she couldn't wait to burn." You can't quit." She reached down for the top button of his jeans and flicked it open. " We need you. I need you." He released her nipple and she groaned in frustration. Then he found the hem of her skirt and inched it higher and the soft groan that floated out of her mouth was for a whole other reason." Hire me back in about an hour or, better yet, a few days." The cool air caressed her upper thighs as he raised her skirt, but it wasn't enough to relieve the molten heat engulfing her. " I like how you think. "
14
" Then what is true love?” she asked audaciously.
Derian leaned forward, his focus powerfully fixed on her. His voice turned delicate and compelling as he spoke.
“Love is so much more than a feeling. True love, Eena, is something that develops over time. It’s not that initial infatuation nor the shivers and butterflies that take your breath away when you’re first attracted to someone. Those things are nice, but they are barely the beginning of what could become true love. The emotions you speak of are temporary and unreliable, elicited when two people come together. The power I speak of grows ever stronger over time until it is steadfast, even in separation. Then, reunited, it solidifies unshakably.”
She shook her head. “I don’t quite follow.”
The captain inched closer, fixing her with the sincerest of gazes. His hands cupped as if he were holding his very heart within them.
“True love is a developed and intense appreciation for someone. It’s that perfect awareness that you are finally whole when she’s with you, and that hollow incompleteness you suffer when she’s gone. True love takes time, Eena. It’s an earned comfort that tells you she’ll be right there beside you no matter what you do, not necessarily happy with your every action, but faithful to you just the same. Love is knowing someone so deeply, understanding her so completely, that you can finish her thoughts without hesitation, confident in reading her face, her body, even her slightest gesture means something to you. Love is years of devotion, sacrifice, commitment, loyalty, trust, faith, and friendship all wrapped up in one. True love does more than cause your heart to flutter, Eena. It upholds your heart when the infatuation no longer makes it flutter.”
“Wow. "
― Richelle E. Goodrich , Eena, The Return of a Queen (The Harrowbethian Saga #2)
17
" you're Shane, right?'He inched away from her and managed a quick nod as he twisted the rag he held in his fingers. 'Heidi sad you were willing to teach me how to ride.' Her expression shifted from entertained to confused, as if she was wondering why no one had mentioned he was a can or two shy of a six-pack. 'A horse,' he clarified, then wanted to kick himself. What else but a horse? Did he think she was here to learn to ride his mother's elephant? One corner of Annabelle's perfect, full mouth twitched. 'A horse would be good. You seem to have several.'He wanted to remind himself that he was usually fine around women. Smooth even. He was intelligent, funny and could, on occasion, be charming. Just not now, with his blood pumping and his brain doing nothing more than shouting " it's her, it's her" over and over again. Chemistry, he thought grimly. It could turn the smartest man into a drooling idiot. Here he was, proving the theory true. "
18
" God saw Hansen tighten his chokehold on Day and he could see his lover fighting to breathe. Day’s ears and neck were bright red. His lips were turning a darker color as his body was deprived of oxygen. Hansen pressed the barrel in deeper and yelled.
“Two minutes and fifteen seconds before I get to zero and I provide the great state of Georgia the luxury of one less narc.”
God’s mind exploded at the thought of not having Day in a world he lived in. He looked into his partner’s glistening eyes and saw he was turning blue and possibly getting ready to faint. Day was still looking at him, looking into God’s green eyes.
No, no, no! He’s saying good-bye.
God closed his eyes and released a loud, gut-wrenching growl cutting off the SWAT leader’s negotiations.
“Godfrey, get yourself under control,” his captain said while grabbing for him.
God jerked himself away from the hold and stepped forward, his angry eyes boring into Hansen’s dark ones. Hansen stared at him as if God was crazy. Little did he know God was at that moment.
“Godfrey, get back here and stand down. That’s an order, Detective!” his captain barked.
God’s large hands clenched at his sides fighting not to pull out his weapons. He ground his teeth together so hard his jaw ached.
“Do you have any idea of the shit storm you’re about to bring down on your life,” God spoke with a menacing snarl while his large frame shook with fury. “In your arms you hold the only thing in this world that means anything to me. The man that you are pointing a gun at is my only purpose for living. You are threating to kill the only person in this world that gives a fuck about me.”
God took two more steps forward and was vaguely aware of the complete silence surrounding him. Hansen’s finger hovered shakily over the trigger as he took two large steps back with Day still tight against his chest.
God growled again and he saw a shade of fear ghost over Hansen’s sweaty face.
“If you kill that man, I swear on everything that is holy, I will track you to the ends of the earth, killing and destroying any and everything you hold dear. I will take everything from you and leave you alive to suffer through it. I will bestow upon you the same misery that you have given to me.”
Hansen shook his head and inched closer to the door behind him.
“Stay back,” he yelled again but this time the demand lacked the courage and venom he exhibited before.
“You kill that man, and you’ll have no idea of the monster you will create. Have you ever met a man with no heart…no conscience…no soul…no purpose?” God rumbled, his voice at least twelve octaves lower than the already deep baritone.
God yanked his Desert Eagle from his holster in a flash and cocked the hammer back chambering the first round. Hansen stumbled back again, his eyes gone wide with fear.
God’s entire body instinctually flexed every muscle in his body and it felt like the large vein in his neck might rupture. His body burned like he had a sweltering fever and he knew his wrath had him a brilliant shade of red.
“I’m asking you a goddamn question, Hansen! No soul! No conscience! I’m asking you have you ever met the devil!” God’s thunderous voice practically rattled the glass in the hanger.
“If you kill the man I love, you better make your peace with God, because I’m gonna meet your soul in hell.” His voice boomed. "
― A.E. Via
