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First published May 30, 2016
“I've never had a good reason to stay.
But you-you're my reason darling.”

“For the record... you'll always be Tinkerbell to me. And Parker...well, he's the perpetual man-child. The boy who never grew up. He's Peter Pan.”
“I'm careful.Cautious.Methodical.
He's bold.Brash.Free.
It's anathema.
It's addicting.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who keeps a garden of delicate orchids?”
No.No,he does not.He looks like the kind of guy who'd only ever see a flower if he decided to fuck you senseless in a field of wild daisies,just because he felt like it.

“Until he taught me to fly,I didn't realize how deep beneath the earth I'd buried my hopes and dreams.”





["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>

“Trouble, aren’t you?”…
“No,” I lie, heart still hammering.
His grin widens. He knows I’m full of shit.
“Too bad.” His eyes flicker to my mouth. “I’m rather fond of trouble.”
“Jesus Christ.” I look up to the heavens, seeking divine intervention. “This is torture.”
“This? No. This is a conversation between…friends.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“You’re right.” He shakes his head. “We’re so much more, snookums. Our connection…it’s deeper than words.”
“I loathe you.”
“You love me.”
I’m careful. Cautious. Methodical.
He’s bold. Brash. Free.
It’s anathema.
It’s addicting.
His gaze flashes up to lock on mine. I see his intent a split second before it turns to action.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
He takes a step toward me anyway.
“We shouldn’t,” I say, not moving.
He prowls closer.
“No good can come of this,” I point out.
His hands hit my shoulders and he hauls me into his chest.
“This is a bad idea,” I breathe against his lips.
“This is a fucking great idea,” he mutters.
And then I can’t say anything else, can’t even think of anything else, because his mouth is on mine.
“You’re mine, now.” His mouth crushes mine in a carnal, brutal kiss. “This is where it starts. You and me … You hear me? No more running.”
“You should know, whenever that happens – you falling apart – whether it’s right now or tomorrow or next week or next year…ii you’ll let me, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”
“You can’t find your feet? I’ll be there to pull you up. You can’t walk? I’ll fucking carry you.”
“There’s this thrill I get, when I go on an adventure. Climb a peak, explore a city, set down wheels on a dirt runway in a place I’ve never been before. I’ve spent my whole life chasing that feeling.” He pauses. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who makes me feel that rush while I’m standing still.”
… “You are my favourite kind of adventure”.