Kendra

“He kept his head down in what seemed to be a prayer. “He counts. You’ve smiled at him four hundred and forty-six times as of a few minutes ago. He announces the number every time I see him.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie

“Married?" she practically screeched, not sounding all that pleased, which left him feeling a little offended. "We're not getting married."
He snorted at that. "I may have let you have your naughty little way with me for the past couple of months, but that doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to keep treating me like some dirty little boy toy. If you want to live with me then I expect you to put a ring on my finger," he said, holding up his left hand and wiggling his ring finger to punctuate his words.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Perfection

“Blake took her face in his hands. “You let me touch you. Kiss you. Your skin? It feels like piano keys. My hands know just where to go.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie

“You make the rest of the beautiful things in the world cry for even trying at all. You make it hard for me to breathe.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie