I was about to look away when he reached across the seat, touched my jaw with his long, strong, beautiful fingers, and caressed my face.
Being touched by Jericho Barrons with kindness makes you feel like you must be the most special person in the world. It’s like walking up to the biggest, most savage lion in the jungle, lying down, placing your head it its mouth and, rather than taking your life, it licks you and purrs.
I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing.
He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?”
“If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing?
“I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.
I didn’t hear him behind me. I felt him. Electric. Wild. One foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out.
And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was. Where was I supposed to put that in my head?
As I moved deeper into the room, his gaze dropped to my feet, and worked its way back to my face. I was wearing faded jeans, boots, and a snug pink Juicy T-shirt I got on sale at TJ Maxx last summer that said I’m a Juicy girl.
“I bet you are,” he murmured.
It's a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: It's every princess for herself.
Karen Marie MoningHe shakes me."Say my name."
"No."
"Damn it,would you just cooperate?"
"I do not know that word,'cooperate.'"
"Obviously,"he growls.
"I think you make up words."
"I do not make up words."
"Do,too."
"Do not."
"Too."
"Not."
I laugh
"Woman you make me crazed,"he mutters.
We do this often.Get into childish arguments.He is stubborn,my beast.
I was in Cancun, Mexico, sitting in a disappearing-edge swimming pool, on a bar stool that was actually under the water, watching palm trees sway in a sultry breeze against the unmistakable aqua splendor of the Caribbean Sea; drinking coconut, lime, and tequila from a scooped-out pineapple, with salt spray of breaking surf and sun kissing my skin.
Translation: I'd died and gone to heaven.
Tags: humour-faefever
Barrons." I hastily shoved the phone between the cushions.
Ms. Lane." He inclined his dark head.
You tattooed me, you bastard." I got right to the point.
Walk out of this with your parents, the stones, and Darroc dead, Ms. Lane, and I‘ll give you the bloody thing.
Karen Marie MoningTags: barrons dreamfever
Then you will simply have to see for yourself. Touch me, lass. Feel my ...sock." His silver gaze sizzled with challenge, as he unzipped his zipper.
Uh-uh." She shook her head for added emphasis.
Then find me a pair of trews that doona threaten to sever my manparts.
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