“His lips pressed against her forehead and she felt him smile against her skin. "Believe me...the only place in the world I want to be is wherever you are." -Grant Morgan”

“She felt hot, strong, alive against him, and he found he had this crazy urge to move his mouth down to the side of her neck, to press it against her, to taste her skin. He wanted to feel her breasts, wanted to pull her T-shirt up and feel her hot skin against his. Damn, he wanted her.”

“I really wish you hadn't worn that sweater,'he muttered into her ear.'It's good practice for you,' she replied,her lips moving against his skin.'Tomorrow,fishnets.'Against her side,warm and familiar,she felt him laugh.”

“Her body pressed against his felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the way she fit against him as though they were made for this embrace was overwhelming.”

“He bent down, pressing his head against her forehead. “Seriously though, I want this – I want you … More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“He remained still for a moment, not long enough for her to wonder if she’d made a mistake. Then he took charge, wrapping his arms around her, cupping his hand over the back of her head, loosening her hair from its style so it tumbled against her sensitized skin. His lips were firm, like the rest of him, and demanding, his tongue stroking along her bottom lip and into her mouth. His breath came hot and heavy against her cheek, and his erection pressed against her hip. Raindrops fell from his skin to hers, and she marveled that she could feel the warmth of him in those drops.”