Linda-Grace

“Zane lay where he was, unable to move even if he’d wanted
to. He snaked a hand across the short distance between them
and slid his fingers into Ty’s. Ty’s hand closed around his with
a gentle squeeze.
“I just need to be able to trust you, Ty,” he whispered.
“You can. I swear you can. I’d die for you, Zane.”
Zane’s heart was in his throat as he studied Ty’s profile. “I
know.”
― Abigail Roux, Touch & Geaux

“You were right, you know,” Ty whispered.
“About what?”
Ty swallowed hard. “I sold my soul a long time ago.”
Ty gripped Zane’s shoulder and pressed him down,
laying him out again, then stretched out over Zane, his hand
dragging down Zane’s body to push at his boxers.
“Ty,” Zane gasped.
Ty kissed him. Zane trailed the tips of his fingers down
Ty’s arm, sliding over the tattoo and the scars and the muscles.
“Do you really believe that?” Zane asked.
“I know it. I will never be the man you think I am.”
Zane’s breaths came harder. “We’ve both been trying so
hard to be worthy of each other.”
― Abigail Roux, Touch & Geaux

“I craved him, like an opium addict craved the pipe: the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, his mere presence in the same room.”
― Jordan L. Hawk, Widdershins

“You told me one time that . . . I was your compass. I gave you direction when you were lost,” Ty said, nearly choking on the words. He glanced up, eyes reflecting like liquid in the low light. “Well, you were my anchor. You were something solid for me to hold onto. I wanted you to remember that.”
― Abigail Roux, Touch & Geaux