Wendy S. Marcus

“Fig leaned in close, his chest pressed to her back, his palm flat on her belly. “Time to muster up some moxie, Roxie,” he whispered. “Every woman in this bar is wishing she had a body as gorgeous as yours, and every man is wishing he had your long, beautiful legs clamped around his butt.”Roxie relaxed. Smiled even. “Does that include you?” [...]“Nah.” [...] “My wish involves them wrapped around my head.”

“I love how you feel in my arms, how you respond to my touch and how your face takes on an expression of pure rapture when we make love. When we’re apart I ache to be with you. There is no doubt in my mind that what I feel for you is the truest, deepest form of love possible.”

“And there it was: the brilliant I-care-about-you smile he’d waited months to see directed at him.He knew in that instant that one would never be enough to last him a lifetime, as he’d originally thought. Because in that quiet moment, in her straight white teeth, her curving lips and sincere blue eyes, he’d found serenity.”

“He had no desire to talk, or move. So he sat, with her still straddling his lap, in no hurry to leave, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, which he tightened around her, slipping his hands under the bottom of her sweater to warm them. They fit together like two distinct halves purposely manufactured to become one seamless whole, a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget.”