Tara Jade

“It’s okay. Everything is okay, agapi mou. You’re here now and I have you.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Apollyon

“Aiden moved so quickly that one second I was in his lap, and the next I was on my back and he was hovering above me. He lowered his head so that his lips brushed mine softly. That one all-too-wuick touch nearly undid me.
"I love you," he said, and those were the last words spoken for quite some time.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Apollyon

“His eyes were burning a liquid silver and his arm tightened around me. "I would never give up on you, Alex. Never."
"Then why are you being such a—"
"What?" his voice dropped low. "I'm being what?"
Infuriating. Stubborn. Thick-skulled. Freaking sexy. "Good gods, can we stop arguing and just, I don't know, make out?”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Apollyon

“I heard the bathroom door close and I kept my eyes screwed shut, but my heart skyrocketed into uncharted territories. I folded my arms around me and held my breath.
There was the slightest movement behind me. Skin brushed against mine. A fine shiver rolled up my spine. An infinite spark transferred between us, something that couldn’t be replicated or forced. How could I’ve forgotten that when connected with Seth? My heart turned over heavily.
Aiden brushed the mass of thick hair over one shoulder and his lips met the space between my neck and shoulder. His hands slid down the slick skin of my arms, cupping over my elbows and then to my wrists. Gently, slowly, he eased my arms to my sides.
I bit down on my lip and my legs started trembling. But he was there. Like always, holding me up when I couldn’t stand on and letting me go when he knew I needed him to. He was more than just a shelter. AIden was my other half, my equal. And he needed no weird Apollyon connection.
Aiden waited, still as a statue, patient as ever, until my muscles unlocked, one by one. Then his hands dropped to my waist and he turned me toward him. A heartbeat passed and he placed his fingers on my chin, tipping my head back.
I opened my eyes, blinking the wetness off my lashes, and the air hitched in my throat. Faint, purplish bruises shadowed his jaw. There was a cut over the bridge of his nose. No doubt injuries I had given him.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Apollyon