Youโre impinging on my private space,โ I said, inching backward. Patch gave a barely-there smile. "Impinging? This isnโt the SAT, Nora.
Becca FitzpatrickWell yoy did it,"I congratulated Patch. "Iยดm as trained as Iยดll ever be-a lean, mean sword-fighting machine. I should have made you my personal trainer from day one." A rogue smile surfaced, slow and wicked. " No match for Patch." Patch&Nora (p.379)
Becca FitzpatrickYou sound worked up. Really worked up. No, that's not it. You sound agitated...flustered...aroused." I could feel her eyes widen. "He kissed you, didn't he?" No answer. "He did! I knew it! I've seen the way he looks at you. I knew this was coming. I saw it from a mile away." I didn't want to think about it. "What was it like?" Vee pressed. "A peach kiss? A plum kiss? Or an al-fal-fa kiss?" "What?" "Was it a peck, did mouths part, or was there tongue? Never mind. You don't have to answer that. Patch isn't the kind of guy to deal with preliminaries. There was tongue involved. Guaranteed.
Becca FitzpatrickThere was no sign of Jules. โBad news,โ said Elliot. โThe man is sick. Youโre going to have to settle for me.โ โSick?โ Vee demanded. โHow sick? What kind of excuse is sick?โ โSick as in itโs coming out both ends.โ Vee scrunched her nose. โToo much information.
Becca FitzpatrickPatch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior. Not that I wanted a look under his clothes.
Becca Fitzpatrick