If I'd wanted you dead five minutes ago, you'd have died five minutes ago.

Patch is the last person you want to antagoonize. He doesn't hold grudges because the people who cross him tend to disappear quickly.

Is that a yes?" he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my shoulders and searching my face intently. "Please let it be yes," he said with a gravelly edge. "Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.

It will cost me a lot to send you with Scott wearing that dress but, just so you know: if you come with that dress slightly wrinkled,I will trace Scott, and when I find him, it's not gonna be pretty

If we're doing this for ten hours, I'm going to need a little incentive to stay motivated." Patch hooked his elbow around my neck and dragged me into a kiss. "Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?" I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "That sounds really dirty." Patch waggled his eyebrows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter. Two kisses per strip. Any objections?" I pulled on an innocent face. "None whatsoever.

I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.

How warm I feel. How icredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.