Oh boy. His chest was smooth and warm and hard as stone, and she wanted to both touch and nibble. And lick. Could she pretty please lick?

Forever this time," he said as Sawyer strode toward them. Tara sighed blissfully. "You know what this means, right?" "I'm done guessing," he said. "Tell me." "It means you're mine," she said. "And I'm yours. No more walking away. We are going to get it right this time." His smile was slow and easy, and just for her. "Well, finally.

It was not enough. It was too much. It was everything.

Why do we always fight?” she whispered. “You know why.” Yeah, she did. “It’s science.” “Combustible chemistry,” he agreed. “Dangerous.

I chose the path less traveled but only because I was lost. Carry a map. - Phoebe Traeger

You had a package. It was torn, so I looked in.” She lifted one of a stack of firefighter calendars, with his own mug and half-naked body on the cover. “Nice,” she said, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. “Mr. 2008.” He bit back a sigh. “It’s for charity.” “And you definitely contributed.

And I specialize in fixing things up and restoring them to their former glory.” She wondered if that talent extended to humans, maybe even humans who never really had a former glory.