Jessica Deirfield

“To douchebags!" he said, gesturing to Brad. "And to girls that break your heart," he bowed his head to me. His eyes lost focus. "And to the absolute fucking horror of losing your best friend because you were stupid enough to fall in love with her.”
― Jamie McGuire, Beautiful Disaster

“I fucking love you!” He grabbed each side of my face,
slamming his lips against mine. “I love you so much,
Pigeon,” he said, kissing me over and over.
“Just remember that in fifty years when I’m still kicking
your ass in poker,” I giggled.
He smiled, triumphant. “If it means sixty or seventy
years with you, Baby…you have my full permission to
do your worst.”
I raised one eyebrow, “You’re gonna regret that.”
“You wanna bet?”
I smiled with as much deviance as I could muster.”
― Jamie McGuire, Beautiful Disaster

“Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?” Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.
“No, Anastasia it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.”
My mouth drops open. Fuck hard! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why are we looking at a playroom? I am mystified.
“You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly.
“No, Anastasia, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.”… Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks yet another door and takes a deep breath.
“You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on stand-by to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It’s fine whatever you decide.”
“Just open the damn door, Christian.”
He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in.
And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.
Holy fuck.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey

“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”
― Langston Hughes