That was . . .” I trailed off trying to find the proper adjective. “Long overdue?” “Long overdue? You’re the one who got skittish when I mentioned how I felt and backed away when we almost kissed.” “You call me on all my crap, don’t you?” He laughed throwing his head back. “That’s one of the things I love about you,” he said. His fingers skimmed up my shoulders until they cradled my neck and my whole body tingling.
I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to want you,” he added fiercely, taking one measured step toward her, then another. “And I sure as hell don’t want to love you. But, God help me, I just can’t stop myself.” Closing the rest of the distance between them in a single stride, he snatched her up by the shoulders, his burning gaze searching her face as if to sear her features into his memory. “I don’t want to marry you because I love you too much to ask you to spend the rest of your life hiding in the shadows.
This is what our love is––a sacred pattern of unbroken unity sewn flawlessly invisible inside all other images, thoughts, smells, and sounds.
Fuck me,” I whispered, giving him permission, taking him into my flesh, a soft invitation to madness.
Even before we met and long after we're both gone, my heart lives inside of yours. I'm forever and ever in love with you.
All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.
Your smile and your laughter lit my whole world.