Eighth Grave After Dark (Charley Davidson, #8)

by Darynda Jones

One corner of his full mouth tipped up as he watched me watch him. Then the slightest arching of his left brow, and my knees almost gave beneath me. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.

he glanced at me from across the sea of guests, gave me a long, languid once-over, then pulled his lower lip in through his teeth. To say the move was sexy would have been like calling a tsunami a ripple in the ocean.

Gemma walked up behind her and did the crazy sign, which since she was a psychiatrist seemed very unprofessional.

LOL!

“Are you free?” he asked. “No, but I’m on sale for a dollar ninety-nine.

He grazed his teeth along the sensitive apex, then feathered his tongue in sweet, short sweeps, stoking the embers, coaxing me closer and closer until a riptide of raw lust engulfed me.

I tried to roll out of Reyes’s arms. He tightened his hold. I tried to lift an arm off me, but he clasped his fingers, essentially locking me in. “Reyes,” I said, stifling a giggle, “I know you’re awake. You can give up the game.” “Never,” he said into his pillow.

i love them

PEOPLE WILL STOP ASKING QUESTIONS IF YOU ANSWER BACK IN INTERPRETIVE DANCE. —T-SHIRT

“Can he forgive me?” she asked. “If I do something good?”

this part made me tear up!

Here was a man so powerful, he could make the earth quake beneath us, holding something as fragile as fine china. It was charming and endearing and sexy and exquisite.

SIIIGGGHHHHH

It amazed me to see how one tiny creature had the power to turn a man made of pure, natural prowess into a bumbling mess.

ACK!!!

And I now had irrefutable proof that dogs did indeed go to heaven, because that was who Mo saw first when she stepped through me, followed by her sister and then her parents.

sob

Then I heard the thud of Reyes’s knees hitting the ground, his breath catching in his lungs.