Quote

Strangely enough, it wasn’t Gabe who was haunting my thoughts, though. That job belonged to a pair of sinfully black eyes that had lost their edge when they studied me, turning as soft and sultry as silk.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Wasn
Pair
Eyes
Studied
Sinfully
Though
Pairs
Gabe
Eye
Soft
Sultry
Jobs
Edge
Strangely
Black
Turning
Haunting
Lost
Edges
Belonged
Enough
Thoughts
Silk

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Just because I've gone and snagged myself a hot boyfriend doesn't mean I'm going to leave my bestfriend high and dry.
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When I'm wasted, I can almost forget who I am, he said, his smile fading slightly. I know I'm still there, but only barely. It's a good place to be. He tipped back the thermos, eyes on the dark sea straight ahead
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Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.
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He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.
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But if the choice I have to make comes down to you or me, I choose you. I always have. All my love, Patch
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Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.
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I couldn't escape him, now or ever. He'd always be there, consuming my every thought, my heart locked in his hands. I was drawn to him by forces I couldn't control, let alone escape.
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You’re a guardian angel now.”.... I’m your guardian angel,” he said. “I get my very own guardian angel? What, exactly, is your job description?” “Guard your body.” His smile tipped higher. “I take my job seriously, which means I’m going to need to get acquainted with the subject matter on a personal level.
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You’re not going to drive me home?” I asked. A waste of breath, since I knew her answer. “There’s fog.” “Patchy fog.” Vee grinned. “Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that I blame you. Personally, I’m hoping I dream about him tonight.
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Are you crazy? I said. Crazy about you. Patch! Don't worry, we've got time. How do you know? He staggered back a step, with his hand over his heart. Your lack of faith hurts.
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I was just about to ask you the same thing. I know you followed me. Don't look so suprised. It's called a rearview mirror. Are you stalking me for a specific reason?
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Your name?” I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered. “Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me
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Patch was in my life for a reason. I needed him. We were two halves of the same whole.
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I wanted to imprint his touch, his taste, even the scent of him so solidly inside me that no one could take them away from me.
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...Good, because I need your help. Help is my middle name. I was pretty sure she'd already told me bad was her middle name, but I kept my opinion to myself.
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