“His words make me squirm. He wouldn’t dare! He and his twitchy palm.”

“Stow your twitchy palm!”

“His words make sense. He's not the man for me. This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection to accept... almost. I can live with this. I understand.”

“He makes me graceful, that's his skill. He makes me sexy, because that's what he is. He makes me feel loved, because in spite of his fifty shades, he has a wealth of love to give.”

“You're my lifeline," he whispers, and he kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his.”

“My heart beat spikes, and I think I’m panting. Jeez, I’m a quivering, moist mess, and he hasn’t even touched me. I squirm in my seat and meet his dark glare.”

“You're my lifeline," he whispers and kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his. With his eyes wide and full of fear, he gently tugs my hand and places it on his chest over his heart- in the forbidden zone. His breathing quickens, his heart is beating a frantic pounding tattoo beneath my fingers. He doesn't take his eyes off mine; his jaw tense, his teeth clenched.I gasp. Oh my Fifty! He's letting me touch him. And it's like all the air in my lungs has vaporized- gone.”