• Cage (Corps Security #2) Kept

    You don’t think she’ll like it?

    And we are here as on a darkling plain . . .My voice snags on the last syllable, like a bramble capturing my skirt. Davenport picks up the thread:

    Assassin's Creed: Forsaken (Assassin's Creed #5)

    Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight . . .Where ignorant armies clash by night.Moving fast but steady, he scoots to the edge of his chair and reaches over, closing the book in my lap, his hand resting on its cover. That same hand that was splayed in front of me in the Bodleian. I stare at it. Now tell me, he murmurs in a low voice, what is Matthew Arnold saying? I hesitate, thinking. Don’t think. I close my eyes. If you don’t open yourself up, how can you ever be surprised by life? And if you’re not surprised, what’s the bloody point?

    The Iron Queen (The Iron Fey #3)

    Breathe. That in death . . . love is all there is.And how does that make you feel? He presses into the book for emphasis and I feel the pressure in my lap.

    I open my eyes, look up. His face is inches from mine, his eyes questing. The word falls out of my mouth. Lonely. And I finally realize what it is about his eyes. They’re the color of this swimming hole I used to spend summers at as a kid, at the end of a trail, at the base of a waterfall. The color was so magical I was convinced if I could hold my breath long enough, swim deep enough, pump my legs hard enough, I’d discover the bottom wasn’t a bottom at all, but a portal to another world.

    I feel my eyes fill, swelling to the brim. But nothing spills over.I’d like to. I mean, I don’t even know where you live.

    The set of his jaw turned serious. I don’t really have people over.Braydon, I don’t care if your place is a mess.

    The Wild Ways (Gale Women #2)

    No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just sort of private about my personal space.I blew out a frustrated breath. He’d been inside me, yet I couldn’t see his apartment? God, men were confusing.

    Pushing away the thoughts, I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the stack of takeout menus from my cupboard. What are you in the mood for? I asked, sitting next to him on the couch and dumping the papers into his lap.Let’s order from Pow Thai Café. I’m craving their lemongrass shrimp.

    Poo Poo Café? Ew. No thanks.He chuckled. Poo Poo?

    Yeah, that place makes you poop.His mouth twitched in a smile. Newsflash, Ellie. All food makes you poop.

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