The Archangel." I murmured. looking back over my shoulder at the ride, which had started its next ascent. "It means high-ranking angel." There was a definite smugness to his voice. "The higher up, the harder the fall.
As in, I wouldn't know normal if it marched up and poked me in the eye.
Kiss me in a way I'll never forget. Kiss me in a way that will stay with me until see you again
I'm not leaving until you tell me why you followed me. I know I'm a fascinating guy, but this is starting to feel like an unhealthy obsession.
Strangely enough, it wasn’t Gabe who was haunting my thoughts, though. That job belonged to a pair of sinfully black eyes that had lost their edge when they studied me, turning as soft and sultry as silk.
He nuzzles my neck affectionately. "I love you. I'm happier right now than I ever remember being.
He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.
He tried to pull me against him, and I bit him on the lip. He licked his lip with the tip of his tongue. 'Did you just bite me?
You dress to impress," I said approvingly. "No, Angel." He leaned in, his teeth softly grazing my ear. "I undress to impress.
I'll be firm," I promised Patch, adopting a no-nonsense expression. "No backing down." By now Patch was full-on grinning. He kissed me again, and I felt my mouth soften its resolve. "You look cute when you're trying to be tough," he said.
I want Scott to look at me the way Patch looks at you.
Are you defending Marcie?” He shook his head. “I don’t need to. She handled herself. You, on the other hand…” I pointed at the door. “Out.
Patch reached for my hand and pushed my dad's ring off the tip of his finger and into my palm, curling my fingers around it. He kissed my knuckles. "I was going to give this back earlier, but it wasn't finished." I opened my palm and held the ring up. The same heart was engraved on the underside, but now there were two names carved on either side of it: NORA and JEV. I looked up. "Jev? That's your real name?" "Nobody's called me that in a long time.
Rollover minutes don’t work with curfews.
For someone who’s made it clear that her life is superior to every other student’s at this school, you sure make it a habit of pursuing every facet of our boring, worthless lives.
...I need a boyfriend. And to get a boyfriend, you have to look good. Doesn’t hurt to smell good too.
I got a new job.” Patch locked eyes with me, and I warmed in a lot of places. In fact, I was dangerously close to feverish.
That was a good fight back in the gym,” he said. “But I think you could benefit from a few more boxing lessons.
It makes no difference to me whether I shoot you or you fall to your death.” “It does make a difference,” I said, my voice small but confident. “You and I share the same blood.” I lifted my hand precariously, showing him my birthmark. “I’m your descendant. If I sacrifice my blood, Patch will become human and you’ll die. It’s written in The Book of Enoch.
Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.
You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.
I didn’t break his jaw, but if he lays a hand on you, it will be the first of many things to break,” Patch said.
Touch her,” he said in Scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.
If I missed out on some really big action, I’m going to be royally pissed off!
He's got the whole bad-boy-in-need-of-redemption thing going on, but the catch is, most bad boys don't want redemption. They like being bad. They like the power they get from striking fear and panic into the hearts of mothers everywhere
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