Debbie Siro

“What happened to your ‘I don’t do girlfriends’ thing.”
His lips twitch. “You happened.”
― Skyla Madi, Consumed

“His hands find my hips and his breathing slows. What are we doing? What is this exactly? He lowers his head and opens his eyes. They search mine and I know he's asking himself the same questions.”
― Skyla Madi, Consumed

“You do realize that means you’re officially off the market.” I say, poking him in the hard stomach. The warm, wide palms of his hands cup my face and my breath hitches.
“Baby, I’ve been off the market since the moments these cheeks turned the sexiest shade of pink.”
Heat flares under my skin and I avert my gaze. “And when was that?”
“When I caught you eye-fucking me.”
I shove him and he lets go of my face. “I did not.”
He laughs loudly and squeezes me against him. “You did. Admit it.”
― Skyla Madi, Consumed

“You don’t see yourself like I do. You don’t see the way your cheeks turn pink when I say or do inappropriate things. You can’t hear the sweet, innocent tone in your voice when you say things... but I do.”
― Skyla Madi, Consumed