You dress to impress," I said approvingly. "No, Angel." He leaned in, his teeth softly grazing my ear. "I undress to impress.

My mom's coming home soon," I said. "We should go to your place." Patch ran a hand across the shadow of stubble along his jaw. "I have rules about who I take there." I was getting really tired of that answer. "If you showed me, you'd have to kill me?" I guessed, fighting the urge to feel irritated. "Once I'm inside, I can never leave?" Patch studied me a moment. Then he reached into his pocket, twisted a key off his key chain, and slipped it into the front pocket of my pajama top. "Once you've gone inside, you have to keep coming back.

Try it on." "It's probably a little snug. Marcie tends to buy down when it comes to sizing." He merely smiled. "It has a slit up the thigh." His smile depened. "Zip it up?" Patch's eyes made a slow assessment of me, sharpening to vivid black. "I'm going to have a hard time sending you off with Scott in that dress. Just a heads-up: If you come home and the dress looks even slightly tampered with, i will track Scott down, and when i find him, it won't be pretty.

You're crazy. You're impossible.' 'I'm crazy?' He tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. 'And I must be crazy for putting up with it.

You never know what you're going to have to face, so you'd better be prepared.

Kiss me in a way I'll never forget. Kiss me in a way that will stay with me until see you again

You want me to come clean, I will. I'll tell you everything. Who I am and what I've done. Every last detail. I'll dig it all up, but you have to ask. You have to want it. You can see who I was, or you can see who I am now. I'm not good," he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, "but I was worse.