But if the choice i have to make comes down to you or me, i choose you. I always have. All my love, patch
BECCA FITZPATRICKI would lay down everything i possess, even my soul, for you. If that isn’t love, it’s the best i have.
More Becca Fitzpatrick Quotes
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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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I didnt break his jaw, but if he lays a hand on you, it will be the first of many things to break, patch said.
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I don’t go out with strangers,” i said. “good thing i do. I’ll pick you up at five.
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All i can think about is bed. Were sharing the same thought. Youre thinking about bed too? Im thinking about you in my bed.
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The sensible part of me wanted to dissect my emotions, overthinking and overcomplicating my reaction to jev.
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Human reproduction can be a sticky subject ewww! Groaned a chorus of students
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What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the big deed.
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He grinned. Busted. Im a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless and shockingly handsome alter ego. And im on top of it, she announced with witty triumph. Is that a freudian slip? His bluntness caught her off guard. A self-conscious blush rose in her face.
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You smell good, too, said patchit’s called a shower. I was staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, i turned sideways. Soap. Shampoo. Hot water.Naked. I know the drill.
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I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler. Cigars.
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And just like that, i shut off the switch to my brain.
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There’s nothing special about losing your virginity over a toilet.
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Say ‘provoking’ again. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.
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When it comes to reflexes, i’m like a cat. I’m catwoman. I’m invulnerable. The only reason he got a piece of me is because of the rain. Cats don’t like water. It impairs us. It’s our kryptonite.
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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.
BECCA FITZPATRICK