“It's the sound of my breathing that gets me, pouring down into my lungs and then tripping back up my throat.”

“I pulled in a soft breath. My lungs were starving, crying out for air. I lay still, and a cough tickled at the back of my throat. It always happens when you're hiding, a cough, a sneeze, something. It's stupid. The body decides to screw around with you, even though it knows being quiet is the only way it's going to go on living.”

“Would that be okay? It's just a day trip. I mean I know we just met yesterday, so, it's not like creepy or anything?" His confident grin falters for a quick second, long enough for me to snap out of my idiotic stupor.That sounds awesome. I nod. Let me just grab my bag.He lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. I fight the urge to stand on my tip toes and reach his lips. Because my guess is that cramming my tongue down his throat right now, would be creepy.”

“Nobody's perfect for battling evil. It's seductive. When we find it, it's going to come at you with everything it's got." I was braced for it. I knew it would. I took a deep, slow breath, filling my lungs, squaring my shoulders. "Jericho, I feel like my whole life have been pushing me toward this moment." "That's it. Fate's a fickle whore. We're not going. Take your clothes off and get back in my bed.”

“I gasp, and his mouth swoops down. He’s kissing me, violently. Briefly our teeth clash, then his tongue is in my mouth. Desire explodes like the Fourth of July throughout my body, and I’m kissing him back, matching his fervor, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling it, hard. He groans, a low sexy sound in the back of his throat that reverberates through me, and his hand moves down my body to the top of my thigh, his fingers digging into my flesh through the plum dress. I pour all the angst and heartbreak of the last few days into our kiss, binding him to me, and it hits me—in this moment of blinding passion—he’s doing the same, he feels the same.”

“So I’m figuring this is death. The little air left in the cockpit is toxic with marthenine, and I can only wonder how much of it I have breathed in. Is my throat becoming raw hamburger? My lungs, oatmeal?”