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What will you do with them? Redo them in charcoal, probably. And then? Tack them to my bedroom wall. Bedroom wall? Who wouldn't want to wake up to this?

Tammara Webber

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Tammara Webber
Wouldn
Probably
Redos
Redo
Tack
Charcoal
Bedroom
Wake
Wall

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Ooh, J, he's got ink too. Just when i didn't think he could get any hotter.
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I kept my eyes open on the ride home. Peeking over Lucas's shoulder, i watched the scenery fly by-and it was exhilarating, not frightening. I trusted him. I had since that first night, when i let him drive me home.
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The way he kissed me felt like a brand. Like he was tattooing himself under my skin.
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I've been known to slum it and shop in the gag-him-and-bag-him aisles, believe it or not.
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And I’m okay, I really am, most of the time. But sometimes, I’m just not.
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He was in a slow-motion mood-one of my favorites, though it meant i'd be driven crazy before we were done.
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The exception is I'm not going away. Don't ask me to do that ever again.
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Please touch me. I need you to touch me.
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I thought I dreamed you. The words whisper from my parched throat. His head tilts to one side, his mouth shifting to something less sarcastic, more amused. That may be the most enchanting thing I've ever been told after spending the night with a girl.
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Everyone isn’t logical. Everything doesn’t make sense in the end. Sometimes you have to forget about explanations or excuses and leave people and places behind, because otherwise they will drag you straight down.
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And then she told me she didn’t want someone who needed her in order to be a better guy. She wanted someone who was better by himself, with or without her.
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People rarely said what they thought, or revealed how they felt. No one was honest.
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Keep looking at me,” she said, laughing as though we were having an amusing conversation. “He’s staring at you. And I mean staring. That boy is undressing you with his eyes. Can you feel it?” Her expression was triumphant. Could I feel his stare? I can now, thanks, I thought.
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Now don't laugh 'cause I just might be...the soft curve in your hardline. (from the song Hardliners by Holcombe Waller)
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ME: You 're a sick girl. ERIN: Guilty as charged. :)
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She shuddered. “What is it with slobbery kissers? Are they trying to drown us in spit? I mean, Jesus, swallow every now and then.
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The truth was, he now belonged only to my past, and it was time I begin to accept it, as much as it hurt to do so.
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She's like a wind-up monkey that winds itself.
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But just because you’re strong and resilient doesn’t mean you never need someone to be there for you, to take care of you.
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My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was: oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.
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