“She wasn’t sure if he wanted more from her or if he wanted less. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was always both.”

“His lips hovered over hers.“No,” he snarled.Madison wasn’t sure to whom he was talking, but then his mouth was crushing hers, and her world became him—the touch and feel of his lips pressing down, forcing hers to respond. It wasn’t a gentle kiss or a sweet exploration. It was angry and raw, breathtaking and soul burning. Right now, she didn’t want gentle. She wanted hard and fast, him and her, on the floor, even the bear rug, both of them naked and sweating.”

“It was not what he expected from a foulmouthed flower of bohemia, but he had a feeling there was both more and less to her than that.”

“She felt both relaxed and protected with him, at least from outside forces. Nothing, it seemed, could protect her from him, and tonight she wasn’t even certain she wanted to be. Claimed, and mated. She was his, but was he hers? And if he was, what in hell did they do about it?“I don’t even know what you want,” she said fretfully, beginning to lose herself in rising sensation.“This,” he muttered in a dark, rough tone. “You.Everything.”

“She wasn't sure who were family & who were friends, and maybe they all were both, and maybe it didn't matter one bit.”

“Or maybe she wants to believe that he found her on purpose. Even Janie can have her dreams.”