“The sad thing is that sometimes I just wanna roll over and give her a little cuddle, but the bolster pillow she insists on sleeping with down the middle of the bed between us means I’d need to be a mountaineer as well as a locksmith.”

“His eyes are piercing and intense, the stare they give me brimming with threat and interest, folding thick arms over a broad chest, rippling the muscles in his forearms and etching the tattoos down his arms into stark highlight.”

“Until she walked into my life I was simply a violin of rusted notes. In one night she rearranged the mess inside me, exposing the symphony was there all along it just needed a conductor to make my pulse compose to the harmonies of her celestial touch. Those notes are strung up neatly now, the five lines of the stave crammed with adulation, filling sheets, unleashing a sonata of adoration, drumming my heart and strumming my veins.”

“She lowers her forehead to the floor, curling starlight tendrils under her face when she rocks in the yoga pose, so tempting and sexy even in her deepest despair. Her courage is failing and I wait it out, watching the prone woman bend subconsciously in prostrate worship. She knows who I am or she wouldn't do that.”

“We've been here before. She knows I won't stop until she screams. Her pride won't let her scream until she's on the cusp of death.”

“An innocent smile skates closer with her movement, walking fingers up my stomach to halt over my heart, “Mate, you.” She nods, as if declaring this is easy and absolute.”

“She wears those old fashioned pj's like body armour. Going to bed these days is like wresting with Kevlar.”