Joan Wells

“You need to understand something, Krissy,” he began, taking careful steps towards me. “Whenever I drop the words ‘gonna shower’, it means, we’re gonna shower. I expect to see you sliding the doors open and stepping in under that shower with me, no more than a minute later. Aroused, eager, and impatient to be fucked under the spraying shower and against the tiles.”

When he reached me, he took the cup of coffee still suspended mid-air from my hand and set it down on the table. Then he bent and slid one arm beneath my thighs, the other around my waist, and lifted my inert body up off the chair. “If I don’t want you to join me, I won’t tell you I’m gonna shower. ’Cause, then, what would be the fucking point?”
― S. Ann Cole

“But it’s a lie. No relationship is perfect. There’s always an ugly story swept under a rug of happy pictures and smiles. ‘Cause when you find the one, it’s just too fuckin’ hard to give them up, no matter the pain, no matter the shame, no matter the cost. So we have to patch up that fuckin’ rift, and love with a broken love. And it will challenge us to love harder, stronger, with more faith. Love fierce enough to overcast that rift, to make sure it never breaks open again.”
― Cole Books, Keeping Jahleel

“Babe, when we have sex, we create magic. We leave earth. We travel the fucking universe. Sex with you goes on and never ends. It transcends. I’m fucking addicted to it. Addicted to you. I didn’t want to share you.”
― S. Ann Cole , I Choose You

“Look,” Vanessa said, pointing up toward the western edge of the sky. “Hercules.” Joan did not speak. “The whole sky makes sense to me now,” Vanessa said. “Because of you.” And Joan thought, Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Atmosphere