The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

You’re going to look so pretty on your knees for me.” He pulls his fingers from my mouth. “But first, lie down and come on my tongue like the obedient girl I know you are.”

I love this kind of control. He’s a strong man, but weak for me.

Her smell is like a fucking drug to me, and her taste is quickly becoming my favorite addiction.

“Sometimes the quietest love is the loudest,”

She deserves the gesture. She deserves to be loved loudly. She deserves to be loved in any way she wants. And if I can be conceited for a moment, she deserves to be loved by me.

But let me make this clear, when it comes to her, I have no issue ruining my reputation. I will burn the world down to protect her and I’ll proudly wave the match, so everyone knows I’m the one who did it.” I pop off the bar to go find Indy, but then I add one more thing. “You know that jersey you’ve got with my last name on it? When you see it hanging there in your closet, let it serve as a reminder to you, that soon enough, it’ll be her last name too.”

“Dear God,” I exhale, watching him taste me. “Who are you praying to?” “I’m not sure.” He moans at the taste of me. “Well, just be sure to use my real name when I make you scream.”

“Why do you like reading fiction so much?” he asks without a hint of judgment. “How else would you get to live a thousand lives in the span of only one? The beauty of fiction is that it makes you feel things on a visceral level. You can cry with those characters, laugh with them. It teaches you to look at another’s perspective, to have empathy. In nonfiction, you simply learn about something instead of feeling it.”

He healed it when someone else broke it, and now it’s his forever.