Haylee

“I like you, Jase Ballenger,” I said softly. “I think if you weren’t a thief, we might be friends.”
“And if you didn’t whisk out knives and threaten to cut pretty necks, I think we might be friends too.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, how obsessed you are with your pretty neck.”
His hands tightened on my wrists. He pulled me close, his teeth nipping at my neck and between kisses, he whispered, “It is not my neck I am obsessed with, Kazi of Brightmist.”
― Mary E. Pearson, Dance of Thieves