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The way he kissed me felt like a brand. Like he was tattooing himself under my skin.

Tammara Webber

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Tammara Webber
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I wanted to tell you that I just--I miss you. And maybe that sounds ridiculous--like we barely know each other, but between the emails and texts and... everything else, I felt like we did. Like we do. and I miss--I don't know how else to say it--I miss both of you.
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How could I not love you? No one has ever affected me like you do. When you told me goodbye last month, I tried to let you go. I told myself it was the best thing for you because you wanted it. But you’re wrong, Dori. I’m good for you even if you don’t know it yet. I know because I’ve never been good for anyone before.
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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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Woman, if i was straight, i would steal you from him so hard.
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I’d always disparaged the games people played in pursuit of love - or the next hook up. The whole thing was a competition to see who could get how far, and I could never figure out if there was more luck or skill involved, or some unknowable combination of the two. People rarely said what they thought, or revealed how they felt. No one was honest.
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Not. Your. Fault. I nodded again, holding onto his words like they were redemption.
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I used to think of two people in love like that. Like puzzle pieces, fitting together. But it's not like that at all. Love pulls a part of you out, and it pulls a part of him - like taffy, stretching but not separating. The tendrils of each one wrap around the other, until they meld together. One, but not quite. Separate, but not quite.
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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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oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.
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Every moment was a before and an after. Every moment was a now to be lived.
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When you tell me to be good, it makes me want to be good,' I say, hearing the undisguised desire in my voice. I run my fingers through the hair at her temples, taking her face between my palms, and she doesn't move. 'It also makes me want to be very, very bad.
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Why don't you go get in bed? I stood, laying my hand on his chest and staring up at him. Is that a dare? He laid one hand over mine and pull me closer with the other. Leaning down, he kissed me gently. It absolutely is. No falling out of it allowed, though.
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But the scars are always there, waiting for something to poke them.
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