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He brushed my curls back off my face. “I never pictured my life so complete. I never thought I’d have everything I want. You’re everything to me, Angel.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Back
Pictured
Everything
Brushed
Never
Curls
Life
Complete
Angel
Face
Faces
Thought

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick

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I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.
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Let’s be honest, Nora. You’ve got it bad for me. His eyes held a lot of depth. And I’ve got it bad for you.
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I don't have 'five' you can borrow. My piggy bank is officially anorexic.
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I’m not stealing it. We’re stranded. This is called borrowing.” “This is called you’re crazy.
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If I were thinking straight, I'd take you home right now.
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You smell good. It's called a shower. Soap, shampoo, water- Naked. I know the drill.
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Why is Anthony Amowitz using his pimp smile on you?” “You’re only calling him a pimp because he’s here. At Marcie’s.” “Yeah, so?” “He’s being nice.” I elbowed her. “Smile back.” “Being nice? He’s being horny.
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Dante said, “I tried talking Nora into a ride, but she keeps blowing me off.” “That’s because she has a hard-A boyfriend. He must have been homeschooled, because he missed all those valuable lessons we learned in kindergarten, like sharing. He finds out you took Nora for a ride, he’ll wrap this shiny new Porsche around the nearest tree.
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Light had a way of keeping the monsters of my imagination at bay.
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I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower. He grinned, hopping off the bike. Now that is an invitation.
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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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It was a smile that spelled trouble. With a promise.
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Walk out,” he repeated. “We need to talk.” “About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body?” I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. “That might be cute if you thought it was true.
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Hang on, did you just call me Angel? I asked. If I did? I don't like it. He grinned. It stays, Angel.
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His were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.
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Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.
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You're scared of what you can't control
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Sure thing, Gumdrop. -Scott
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Your mine, angel. And I won't let anything change that.
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You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.
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