I’m calling in one of my birthday presents, Tru,” he says softly. His eyes look opaque, heavy with desire.
“What do you want?” My voice is quiet, trembling.
Propping himself up on his elbow, I tilt my head back as he looks down at me.
He pulls my hair free from its knot, running his fingers through it.
“You.” He moves his face close to mine, staying a breath away, waiting for his invitation.
“Happy birthday,” I whisper.”

Excerpt From: Towle, Samantha. “The Mighty Storm.” iBooks.
This material may be protected by copyright.

Author: Samantha Towle

I’m calling in one of my birthday presents, Tru,” he says softly. His eyes look opaque, heavy with desire.<br />“What do you want?” My voice is quiet, trembling.<br />Propping himself up on his elbow, I tilt my head back as he looks down at me.<br />He pulls my hair free from its knot, running his fingers through it.<br />“You.” He moves his face close to mine, staying a breath away, waiting for his invitation.<br />“Happy birthday,” I whisper.”<br /><br />Excerpt From: Towle, Samantha. “The Mighty Storm.” iBooks. <br />This material may be protected by copyright. - Samantha Towle



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