Alexis Sciarra

“All I can think about is bed.”
“We’re sharing the same thought.”
“You’re thinking about bed too?”
“I’m thinking about YOU in MY bed.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night,” Patch told me gravely. “I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you — every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll make you happy.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“The antique, almost primitive band he held between his fingers caught the sunlight, glinting silver. “I found this ring shortly after I was banished from heaven. I kept it to remind myself of how endless my sentence was, how eternal one small choice can be. I’ve kept it a long time. I want you to have it. You broke my suffering. You’ve given me a new eternity. Be my girl, Nora. Be my everything.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“His mouth twisted into a perceptive, sexy smile.

"Hmm."

"Hmm?" I looked away, flustered, automatically using irritation to cover my discomfort up. "What does 'hmm' have to do with anything? Could you ever use more than five words? All this grunting and miced words make you come across--primal."

His smile tipped higher. "Primal."

"You're impossible."

"Me Jev, you Nora."

"Stop it." But I nearly smiled in spite of myself.

"Since we're keeping it primal, you smell good," he observed. Hw moved closer, makin me acutely aware of his size, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm burn of his skin on mine. Electricity tingled along my scalp, and I shuddered with pleasure.

"It's called a shower...," I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. "Soap, shampoo, hot water," I added, almost as an afterthought.

"Naked. I know the drill," Jev said, something unreadable passing over his eyes.

Unsure how to proceed, I attempted to wash away the moment with an airy laugh. "Are you flirting with me, Jev?"

"Does it feel that way to you?"

"I don't know you well enough to say either way." I tried to keep my voice level, neutral even.

"Then we'll have to change that."

Still uncertain of his motives, I cleared my throat. Two could play this game. "Running from bad guys together is your idea of playing getting-to-know-you?"

"No. This is." He dipped my body backward, drawing me up in a slow arc until he raised me flush against him. In his arms, my joints loosened, my defenses melting as he led me through the sultry steps.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence