Alaana

“Harley stands and stretches his long and lean body as he yawns. “Oh, and one more thing. If I am recognized, you’re gonna have to carry me through the horde back to the hotel.”

“Nah, they say the best way to train is to run like someone’s chasing you. It’ll be good practice for you.”

“But I want to sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ all Whitney Houston like while you race through the streets of New York with me in your arms bridal-style. You could be my Kevin Costner and take a bullet for me.”

“Your fantasies about me are fucked-up.”
― Eden Finley, Pop Star

“This was England, and in England, it did not matter if your evening was spent with a well-lettered lover who “prioritized Uranian companionship” or a friend who called himself a sodomite and sucked semen off pearls; it was all the same if you wound up in court.”
― Jess Everlee, A Rulebook for Restless Rogues

“We’re here, Papa,” said Noah firmly, “because it’s the first Sunday of the month. I wanted to see you while you were in town. And as for David, I simply invited him along.”

“What’s the reason for such an invitation today?” Dr. Clarke said. “Why not invite him last month? Or wait until next month?”

Noah smiled and batted his lashes in a way that made David brace himself for whatever was about to come out of his wicked mouth.

“Well,” he said carefully, “because we eloped this morning, you see.”

Eloped? He’d expected Noah to say something shocking, but this one surprised David in the best possible way. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing—or, more accurately, giving free rein to the lovesick giggle that threatened to escape his throat. We eloped. Fuck. If Noah had managed to pull out some excuse for David to kiss him here and now, he’d have done it.

Dr. Clarke, on the other hand, looked more tired than surprised. He took a very deep breath and a very long drink of coffee.

“Eloped. I see,” he said, doling out a sigh. “Care to elaborate on that a bit?”
― Jess Everlee, A Rulebook for Restless Rogues

“So, tell me the story,’ Owain said after they had stood in silence for a while, looking at the top of the Grove through the Fog.

Deri’s first thought was to ask what Owain would offer him for it. His second was to just name the price as one kiss, willingly given. He went with his third impulse: just tell the bloody story.

But tell it well.”
― Trip Galey, A Market of Dreams and Destiny