Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)

by Raven Kennedy

I learned him, as one learns a language.

My spirit is ravenous for rampancy. Starving for wander. I want to go everywhere, see everything.

We tell ourselves twisted lies to tangle around our wicked truths, all so that we can get caught up in the bind and not have to face bare regrets.

Time crawls. With bent knees and flat palms, it skulks forward with a painful, pitiful drag, scraping at my nerves as it goes.

I’ve stepped too close to him and gotten caught in his quicksand. No matter which direction I go, I just end up sinking deeper.

with you, I have to hear what you’re not saying in order to read the whole page of your words.”

“Love happens in all kinds of ways. Fast. Slow. In bits and pieces, or immediate. Filled with lust, one-sided longing, a snap realization never noticed before. Deeply. Thoroughly. Love is a whisper we didn’t hear or a sound that drums in our ears and drowns out everything else.”

His voice is a seductive grit of palpable hunger

I want her every reaction to sway toward me like branches in the wind, caught up by the force of our synchronicity.