“It doesn't feel swollen," he commented, bending his head torward her ankle again. "Does it hurt at all?""Very little. Not nearly as much as my dignity.""In that case, by tomorrow your ankle and your dignity will probably be fine."Still crouching, he cupped her heel in his left hand and reached over to pick up her sandal with his right. Just as he was about to slip the sandal onto her foot, he glanced up at her and his lazy smile sent Lauren's pulse racing as he asked, "Isn't there some fairy tale about a man who searches for the woman whose foot fits into a glass slipper?"She nodded, her eyes bright. "Cinderella.""What happens to me if this slipper fits?""I turn you into a handsome frog," she guipped.”

“Goddess,” he rasped, running his hands over her hips, up her legs.“Lover,” she whispered back, threading the fingers of her right hand through the fingers of his left and moving his hand to her breast. It was heavy and swollen and ripe with desire. He scraped his thumb over her nipple, loving the way she closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. He loved that she was in charge. He loved how she took pleasure from his body with such confident leisure. He loved how she squeezed her innermost muscles in pulse after deliberate, exquisite pulse as she rode his length. He loved how he was just that to her, her lover, not Nick Blackthorne rock star, but just the man she gave her body, her heart, her soul to. He loved her. Everything about her.”

“She searched his face. "Why did you do this -- go to all this trouble, indulge in what I'm sure will prove a shockingly hideous expense?He returned he gaze steadily "You like music."It was that simple -- he let her read the truth in his eyes. Then she shivered. He reached for the shawl she'd left over her chair and held it up. She hesitated, then turned so he could drape it over her shoulders. Releasing the fine silk, he closed his hands about her shoulders; leaning closer, he murmured, "As with other pleasures, my reward is your delight.”

“He pushed up onto his heels and then pulled her up against him, one hand cradling the nape of her neck, the other splayed wide over her back. His mouth came down on hers and right before he kissed her, he muttered, “Fuck, you’re going to drive me insane, I know it.”Then his mouth crushed down onto hers. His taste was different—darker.Her, she realized. He tasted of her.”

“He's a clever little thing, isn't he?"She leaned in to drop a kiss on the kitten's soft head, reaching to move him off Griffin's chest. He reached for her hand, stopping her."And what about me?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers."What about you?""Am I not clever enough for a kiss?" His voice was gruff.She favored him with a shy smile."You're more than clever enough, Griffin Channing.”

“It's only thunder." "It just startled me," she said, her eyes on his. "I'm not afraid of storms.' "Let's see." Still, he moved slowly, taking his time as much to prolong this new moment as to gauge her reaction. He laid his hands on her hips as the rain beat and splashed, sliding them up her body, smooth and easy as he lowered his head, paused-one long breath-then fit his mouth to hers.”