Nekeisha Ryce

“I don't need these," Ian said, flashing emerald in his turquoise gaze for a split second, "when I have this."

With a casual swipe of his hand, he ripped his shirt open, causing buttons to fly everywhere. Another swipe took his sleep mask all the way off. Finally, he finger-combed his shoulder-length hair and smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"I am, after all, irresistible."

I couldn't contain my snort. "I resisted you just fine the day we met, or don't you remember me sticking a knife in your chest?"

Ian smiled with lazy wickedness. "I remember, but you seem to have forgotten that you kissed me first. And thoroughly enjoyed it.”
― Jeaniene Frost, Up from the Grave