“Jesus, fuck, once we kill him, can I keep stabbing him?”

“You just need to know, I gotta fight to keep what we got so we can build on it, I will. Him, your Dad, you, I don’t give a fuck. In my life, I’ve learned when to let shit go and when to fight. This, babe, what we got, I’ll fight for.”

“Whose SUV is this?” I asked once we were out of Carnal.“Mine.” He answered.I looked at him. “You drive a Harley.”“Not big on puttin’ bad guys on the back of my bike when I hunt them down, Ace. Fucks with my street cred.”

“Fuck me, shut the fuck up,” Cal entered the conversation, glaring at both Ryker and Devin. “Caked. Jesus. Seriously? Are we talkin’ about cakes?”

“<…>Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too fucking much, he fucked up. Then he kept fucking up. Then he kept fucking doing it. He knew it and he couldn't stop. Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him he lost control and he knew he couldn't do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the fuck away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic fucking body. He couldn't hold up. So he stayed the fuck away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the fuck away from him.<…>”

“Holy fuck, Jesus, shit, you’re Tatum Jackson”

“Jesus, Laurie, baby, look at you." My eyes followed his, mainly because I wanted him to keep at me and I'd do just about anything he told me to do to get it. But what I saw made my heart skip and my legs fail. Tate, dark, tall, behind me, his hands on me; me, blonde, my face flushed, my eyes hooded, tucked tight against him. A perfect fit, made to be there. A perfect match, made to be together. Made to be there. Made to be together. We looked great. We looked hot. We looked beautiful. My eyes went to his in the mirror.”