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Target on Our Backs (Monster in His Eyes, #3) Target on Our Backs by J.M. Darhower
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Target on Our Backs Quotes Showing 1-30 of 42
“I was going to take it easy on you," he says, his voice low. "Lay you down on the bed and worship you, all day and all night. Kiss and caress every inch of you. Taste you with my tongue until you can't take anymore. And then I was going to give it to you, deep and slow... make you come over and over again, until all you can do is whimper, cry my name." His free hand, the one not clutching the belt, slowly ghosts along the front of my body, his fingertips brushing against my flushed skin. He runs the hand along my breasts before settling on my chest, over my heart. "You like it that way, don't you? Like when I make you feel all of my love."
I nod, tingles erupting all over. "Uh-huh."
"And I was going to love you right, remind you what it feels like to be cherished, to be idolized, to be treated like the queen you are. I was going to make serious love to you, baby." "But now I think I'll just fuck you instead.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Where are you going?"
"To get my wife back."
"How do you know where to look?"
I hold my phone up. "I've got a map."
"A map?" He laughs. Laughs. "You ever feel like Admiral Ackbar with the Death Star plans?"
I look at him, brow furrowed.
"You know... Return of the Jedi? It's a trap!"
I shake my head.
"Really? Nothing?" He scrunches up his face as if I disgust him. "How are we even friends?"
"We're not.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“They're not going to take another life from me.
They can't have my wife.
They can't take her.
They can't steal my happiness.
I'm not going to let them.
Not now. Not ever.
Not again.
Not again.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Never let them see your fear… it's rule number one. And it's not that I'm afraid. No, I'm not.
I don't fear death.
I've already died too many times before.
I'm a cat with nine lives and I'm already on number twelve. I'm living on borrowed time. When death wants to take me, it'll take me.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Judge him by his actions and not your suspicions," he says. "Because if the only measure of a man's worth is what he does to make money, a lot of good men would be judged unfairly.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Word around town is you're a bit of a dick-tator.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Don't tell me something happened to her," I say, "not unless you want the world to burn.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“You and me… we love differently. But that doesn't mean you don't love her, in your own twisted way.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Shaking my head, I can't help the smile that fights to break free. It's completely ridiculous. It's probably the most absurd few minutes of my life. But the sound of her laughter, of her happiness, does to me something nothing else can. It cuts straight through my darkness. With her, I almost feel light.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“It's not the titles that honor the men… it's the men that honor the titles.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“He makes love to me then, like only Naz can, alternating between slow and deep and rough and hard, sending me into a tailspin. It's a breath-catching, skin-slapping, soul-capturing kind of love. The man owns me. He consumes me. Every part of me was made for every part of him. It's the kind of love I can't imagine ever living without. It's raw, and real, and it's ours.
It's ours.
It goes on forever.
Life flashes before my eyes.
We're old and gray and happy. We're happy.
Nothing is going to get in our way now.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“He pushes in then, slowly, deeply, stroking a chord inside of me. My breath hitches. Oh God.
"I love that sound," he whispers, his voice gritty. "It's the best music in the world."
I wrap my arms around him. "Maybe that should be your ringtone, then."
He laughs, his face nuzzled into my neck. "That wouldn't work."
"Why?"
"Because others would hear it. That sound belongs only to my ears.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“I've always been fascinated by how the body works.
How a fist-sized muscle deep in your chest is responsible for keeping you alive every day. It steadily beats, every second of every hour, pushing blood through your arteries then back to it through your veins. And you do nothing to make it happen. It just does it, all on its own. Doesn't matter how you're feeling, what you're thinking, if your fucking heart is breaking... it keeps on beating, a hundred thousand times a day.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river… you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words… I love you… it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know."
"I know.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“There's just something about you, Karissa," he whispers, "something I've sought for a very long time.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“I sit back on the floor and pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around my knees. Silent tears stream from my eyes. I don't even know I'm crying until I feel them on my cheeks. "I'm just… I'm just so tired of never having the ground under me. I feel like we're free falling, and everything around us just keeps moving in a blur, and I don't know how to make it slow down so we can land on our feet."
"I know," she says quietly, "but that's what happens when you fall in love with a force of nature.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Nothing I can say will make her feel better at the moment, so I just press a kiss to her forehead before walking out.
Places to go.
People to see.
Blood to spill.
You know how it is.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words… I love you… it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Naz starts to walk out but pauses in the doorway of the den. "A word of advice?"
"Uh, sure."
"Judge him by his actions and not your suspicions," he says. "Because if the only measure of a man's worth is what he does to make money, a lot of good men would be judged unfairly."
"Like you?"
"Not like me," he says. "Not sure how many times I have to tell you... I'm not a good man, Karissa, and try as I might, I probably never will be.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“I look at him incredulously. "You've got a grenade." A grenade. He's carrying a fucking grenade.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“I walk out, and all I hear is laughter… loud, carefree laughter. Shaking my head, I can't help the smile that fights to break free. It's completely ridiculous. It's probably the most absurd few minutes of my life. But the sound of her laughter, of her happiness, does to me something nothing else can.
It cuts straight through my darkness.
With her, I almost feel light.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Once the man vacates the room, Genova motions toward the table between us. "Gun."
I hold up my hands. "I don't have one."
His brow furrows. "You came unarmed?"
"I never carry a gun," I say, "but that doesn't mean I'm unarmed."
Everything's a weapon if you look at it the right way.
"Knives, then."
"None of those, either."
"Then what do you got?"
"Not much." I consider it for a moment. "Some spare change, a peppermint, my wallet... oh, and I've got a pen in my pocket."
He looks at me with disbelief. "A pen."
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a simple black ballpoint ink pen.
Probably cost a dollar.
"You gonna kill somebody with that?" he asks.
I shrug, setting it on the table. "You never know.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“It's a song, I realize, after a second, as it continues blaring. Hotline Bling.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“I'm not a coward," I say. "I don't run." "Then walk." I”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“​LORENZO :-)

So I've been told," Lorenzo says. "Word around town is you're a bit of a dick-tator."

---------------------------------------------------------------


"Honestly? I don't know. All of this, if you ask me, is total bullshit. You're just whacking yourselves off under the table, getting off on the theatrics, like we're on fucking Broadway. Dance, little soldier, dance. It's a joke. I'll never understand it. But Ignazio here requested a meeting, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't show up?”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“He shows me that, and I feel it, as he holds me tightly, making love to me. I'm sweaty, and exhausted, by the time it's over. My body is spent from orgasms, and my heart feels like it goes to explode. I say nothing, though, afraid to speak, afraid to offer him any words. Because if I do, I might spew a fucking rainbow. I might spout out the kind of nonsense found in Napoleon's romance novella.
Naz lies on top of me for a moment after he finishes before finally pulling out. He stands up, gathering our clothes, tossing mine to me as I lay on the bed.
"I'm sure now," I manage to say, as I watch Naz getting dressed.
He turns to me. "Yeah?"
I nod as I sit up, clutching a hold of my necklace. "I've got everything I want.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Ignazio Michele Vitale," I say playfully, intentionally flubbing the middle name, just to get more of a rise out of him. "I can't believe you were singing a song from the eighties."
"You were seeing things.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“She says you're different, you know," he continues, turning back around to continue slicing his tomatoes. "I've been trying to see it… to see what she sees… but you don't seem any different to me."
I want to tell him it's because he's not looking hard enough, but that's a lie and I know it. The problem is, he's looking harder than Karissa is. She thinks I'm different because she wants me to be. And I'm trying to be. But I'm still me.
I can't be anybody but me.
At some point, every part of me became every part of that. The life isn't just something I lived… it was how I survived. It infused itself into every one of my cells, infecting every mitochondrion. It's in my blood and my bones, and unless you drain me dry and rip me to pieces, you'll never rid me of all of it.
It's like expecting a man to survive without a beating heart in his chest.
Expecting him to breathe without lungs.
Expecting him to fight when he has no reason to live.
It's like expecting a man to still be a man after taking away everything that makes him who he is.
I can be good to her.
I might even be good for her.
But that doesn't mean I'm good.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“Carpe Diem. The words are etched in the metal pendant. Tomorrow isn't a guarantee. Nothing is promised. So today? Seize the Day.
That's how Naz lives his life.
That's how I want to live it with him.”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs
“You know, they say if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it'll jump right back out," he says. "But if you put a frog in a pot of cool water and steadily raise the temperature, it'll stay right where it is, like nothing is happening. You get where I'm going with this?”
J.M. Darhower, Target on Our Backs

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