“Fermented grief is far more potent”

“I am not Sabah. I am Rania. And I feel.”“Good. No more Sabah. Only Rania.”

“He stood more than a foot taller than I did, his shoulders like a football player’s pads, arms corded thick. He was huge, I realized. Kyle had been lean and toned. Colton was… something else. Obviously powerful. Hard. Primal.”

“What can I say? I've never met a cupcake I didn't want to get to know better.”

“Chase tugged my hips flush against his, and I felt a hard length between us. It was only a bulge against the leather of his pants, but it was enough to get me wetter than a rainforest between my legs.”

“Touching his cock was like eating chips; I couldn't stop after just one.”

“The music glides between the pores of your skin to bubble through your veins in place of blood, and you can't help but clutch the mic with both trembling hands and let the song flow out of you like blood from a wound. In those moments, when the music has replaced everything and even awareness of your own body has faded, you can't breathe, can't do anything but let the song own you, let the performance rocket through you. There's no people, no problems in your life, no buzz of alcohol in your blood or pain in your heart.”