Barrons was powerful, broodingly good-looking, insanely wealthy, frighteningly intelligent, and had exquisite taste, not to mention a hard body that emitted some kind of constant low-level charge. Bottom line: He was the stuff of heroes.
And psychotic killers.
Tag: mac
When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies.
Karen Marie MoningTag: paranormal-romance drama faery urban-fantasy
I wasn‘t—" I began.
I didn‘t—" He began.
How charming," V‘lane cut us off. His voice arrived before he did. "The very portrait of human domestic bliss. She‘s on the floor, you‘re towering over her. Did he strike you, MacKayla? Say the word and I‘ll kill him.
You might start by thanking me."
For what? For finding something else that was so important to do that it took you all the way from midnight on Samhain ‗til four days later to come for me? I‘m not going to thank you for saving me from something you failed to save me from to begin with."
You look fine to me.
In fact, you‘re better than fine, aren‘t you? You walked right through my wards, without a word. Didn‘t even leave a note by the bedside. Really,after all we shared, Ms. Lane. But do I get any thanks for doing the
impossible and bringing you back from being Pri-ya? No. What do I get? You steal my guns.
You told me i was your world.
It wasn't me. I was an animal."
My heart pounded. My cheeks burned.
You never wanted it to end.
"Why are you being such a jackass, slamming me in the face with my own humiliation?"
Humilation? That's what you call this? He forced a more detailed reminder on me.
I swallowed. Yes, I certainly remembered that. "I was out of my mind. I‘d never have done it otherwise."
Really, his dark eyes mocked, and in them I was demanding more, telling him I wanted it to always be this way.
I remembered what he'd replied: that one day I would wonder if it was possible to hate him more.
Not now, old woman," I tossed over my shoulder coldly. "I need sleep."
Funny. You didn‘t seem to need so much a few days ago."
I felt the blood drain from my face. I wasn‘t ready for this confrontation. I might never be ready for it.
In fact, sleep was the last thing on your mind," he said tightly. He was angry. I could hear it in his voice. What was he angry about? I was the one who‘d been through the emotional wringer.
My hands curled into fists, my breathing grew shallow. I trusted him no more today than I had two months ago. "Fucking was all you wanted.
raking a hand through his hair, he forced his attention to the text she'd left on the coffee table, refusing to dwell on the disconcerting fact that a part of him had taken one look at the lass in such proximity to his bed and said simply: Mine
Karen Marie MoningTag: wishful-thinking
Revenge. They took too much. You give up and die, or learn how to take back.
Karen Marie MoningI miss her. I don't know how to live without her. There is a hole inside me that nothing fills.
If you don't find something to fill that hole, someone else will. And if someone else fills it, they own you. Forever. You'll never get yourself back.
When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.
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