Devil's Thirst (The Moretti Men, #1)

by Jill Ramsower

She was the only reason I came back to New York. I wanted to prove that the image was a mirage—the same way a kid imagines Santa in all his kind-hearted glory when reality is closer to a haggard retiree who’s overly fond of coaxing children to sit on his lap. It’s amazing what a good pair of rose-colored glasses can do.

“I taught you better than to lie to yourself. You can’t stop others from lying to you, but if you lie to yourself—” “I’m the only one to blame,” I finish for him. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard him make time and time again. I absolutely believe it, but catching the lie can be tricky.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s not how this works. You chose me. I chose you. We haven’t fucked, but that’s only because I want you to get to know me first. We can skip ahead, though, if it means you start to understand that you’re mine.”

“Any man can stick his dick in a woman. There’s no real value to that. A man’s worth is in his ability to provide and protect—to make his family’s lives better.”