“For all the times he'd fucked me, he'd never fucked me like this. Because this wasn't fucking.It was in his eyes, in his touch, in his kiss. It was in his heartbeat, pulsing against my chest and inside me. It was how he moaned my name, it was how he murmured and pleaded, and it was how his fingers dug into my skin. It wasn't fucking. It was emotion and pure need…He was making love to me.”

“I'll never be able to see you."I took his other hand, holding both his in mine. "You do see me. No one has ever seen me like you do." I lifted his hands to my face. "You know me, you see me, like no one else.""Not through these eyes.""No," I agreed quietly. "You see me with your heart.”

“You fucked my wife,’ said David, the words coming from his mouth before he realised how pathetic they sounded.‘I’ve fucked a lot of men’s wives, David.’ Pause. ‘But none was in more need than yours.”

“Then he kissed her again. When he licked her through the silk, she moaned. Catching the fabric, he tugged it aside and licked her again. “Hot … fuck, yeah, you’re hot.”Hope shuddered and fisted her hands in his hair again. But this time, she tugged him closer, gasping out his name.He smiled against her and then proceeded to do to her what she’d been doing to him from the first time he’d laid eyes on her—driving him out of his fucking mind.”

“This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?”

“When he smiles at me, I feel like I'm sitting under a heat lamp. I live for the times when his fingers brush my leg at lunch, or when we pass in the hallways and he raises his eyebrows at me, like we have a secret. I should feel bad--and I do, most of the time--but how can I stop thinking about him when seeing his face makes me feel so alive?”

“The sound of my name in his voice stopped me in midturn. I don't know how the hell he did it, but whenever he said my name, it cut through all other distractions and made me pause, as if he'd clenched me to him and kissed me.”