“He sucked in his breath as his saw me, his eyes traveling from my toes to my hips, as if he hadn't seen it all before."Jesus," he whispered, gaze lingering everywhere. "I keep forgetting that you're art already." ...”

“But the burning man falling from the sky pulled me from my faraway world. My gaze wandered to the window an instant before he appeared. And then, slowly, like a feather caught on a light breeze, he willowed past my window, turning his grotesque head towards me, his mouth open in a silent scream. He was more than on fire. He was fire.Orange and red flames braided together in the shape of a man, but it was his eyes that caused me to suck in my breath and hold it as I ran to the window. His eyes, scared and imploring, told of a darkness and agony I couldn't begin to understand.”

“Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching us as we go through the movements again. When he stops in front of me, my insides twist like someone is stirring them with a fork. He stares at me, his eyes following my body from my head to my feet, not lingering anywhere - a practical, scientific gaze."You don't have much muscle", he says, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. His fingers are so long that, though the heel of his hand touches one side of my rib cage, his fingertips still touch the other side. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed."Never forget to keep tension here", he says in a quiet voice.Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone. It's strange, but I have to stop and breathe for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again.”

“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.”

“His back was to me and he was wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. His shoulders, the smooth muscles of his back, the wide expanse of smooth, tan skin, was all exposed to the naked eye and I was blinded by the beauty of it. So much, it was a wonder I didn't throw out my hand reeling.At that thought, he turned and gave me a view of his chest.At this view, arguably better than his back, I sucked in a breath then whispered to myself, "Oh my God.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered slowly, a desperate plea, and I stroked my thumb across his bottom lip. My heart pounded, and I wanted him so badly it felt like I’d jump out of my skin.His mouth parted, and his eyes fell to my lips before flickering back up. His hands slid around my hips, and he pulled me against him. “No,” he said, but his body betrayed his pledge.“I order you to kiss me,” I said into his lips. My fingers dipped into his waistband and began to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He took a deep breath and his hands tightened on my hips, but he didn’t stop me.He turned his face into my neck and let out a long, frustrated groan, burning my skin with his breath and sending shivers through me. He nuzzled my hair, drinking in my scent as my fingernails ran softly down the back of his neck. “You can’t do that to me,” he said huskily, his lips brushing my skin.I slipped my hands under his shirt, and I smoothed them over his solid abdomen. “Then kiss me because you want to.”