Locke Cole Quotes

Cole made a hissing sound. "Are you inside yet? God bless America and all her sons. What is taking you so long?" The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace" "Mommy isn't going to give a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.

I grabbed Liam's arm as he passed me on his way to the tunnel door, kissing his cheek. "See you later tonight." He stepped down into the tunnel, shouldering a backpack Cole had left for him there. When I turned to say good-bye to the other Stewart, he'd stooped, turned his cheek toward me, and was waiting. I flicked it with my finger, making him laugh again. "You're impossible," I informed him. "It's all part of my charm," he said, shifting the heavy bag on his shoulder. "Take care of things, Boss." "Take care of him." I said, pointedly. He gave one last mock salute before shutting the door to the tunnel. I waited until the sound of his and the others' steps faded completely before locking the door after him.

Damn, cher, you still smell like a blossom. Been so long since I've seen a flower that I'd nearly forgotten what they smelled like." He took a lock of my hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. "You're dressing up and using expensive perfume? Ole Jack senses a trap. Consider me snared.

The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace," I said. "Mommy isn't going to give me a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.

Why Kisa?” I asked. “Why is it like this between us?” Kisa dipped her eyes, not saying anything for a while, but then she smiled shyly and murmured, “Whatever our souls are made of-” “His and mine are the same.” I finished off, the words coming from some locked-away memory in my mind.

Cam’s grin was wicked as his hand coasted up my waist to cup my breast. He squeezed it, setting off a weird mixture of painful tenderness and a bolt of lust to my sex. “My eyes!” Cole yelled. Cam and I jerked apart, and I twisted my head to see my brother standing in the doorway in his pyjamas, his hair falling in wet locks across his forehead. His forearm covered his eyes. “I’m fucking blind,” he growled and turned around, bumping into the wall before remembering to drop his arm. After that he stomped out of the flat, the door slamming in his wake. Horrified, I looked up into Cam’s face, my eyes wide. “I think I should let him get away with using the ‘f’ word on this occasion.” Cam snorted, laughter sputtering as he dropped his head to my chest, his whole body shaking with amusement. I felt an irrepressible giggle escape me despite my mortification for myself and Cole. “It’s not funny. We’ve scarred him. I better check on him.” Cam shook his head, his eyes bright with mirth. “You’re the last person he wants to see right now … I’m sure he’s barricaded himself in his room and is doing anything he can to burn the image of me dry-humping his sister out of his mind.

When AK kissed me, the whole world fell away. All the pain and demons that clouded my brain fell into a blissful void, locked away as the taste of him consumed me, chasing the dark.

below. His stare is locked on mine as he strokes my hair from my eyes. “He doesn’t own you, Natalie. No one does. Not even me, honey.” His grin warms me and reminds me that he does own me. Heart and soul.

Tell me,” Cole coaxed again, “how would you handle me?” “Well,” she began hesitantly, her eyes locked on his, “I suppose I’d begin by telling you what a fine figure of a man you are. How handsome—” “Forget about my pretty face,” he interrupted.

Riiiight," Braden said, jogging to Michelle's side. "Nothing says How have you been? like a punch in the face." He pushed a stray lock of auburn hair beneath a bandana. "Which reminds me." I held my hands up in a fight stance and motioned him closer with my fingers. "I haven't had a chance to say hello to you yet, Braden." "Funny." He rolled his eyes but didn't move.

Do you realize how deeply I feel about you?” I slowly shook my head, needing her to tell me. She placed my hand over her heart and her hand over mine. I felt its steady beat under my palm, the steady beat that got faster as my eyes locked on hers. “It’s like music,” she explained. “When I look at you, when you touch me, when I see your face … when we kiss, my heart plays a song. It sings that it needs you like I need air. It sings to me that I adore you. It sings that I’ve found its perfect missing part.

They do the twenty-one-gun salute for the good guys, right? So I brought this.” Beckett pointed the gun in the sky. “For Mouse.” One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen shots exploded from Beckett’s gun. “Who am I fucking kidding? What the hell does a gun shot by me mean? Nothing special, that’s for damn sure. Fuck it.” “For Mouse, who watched over my sister and saved Blake and me from more than we could’ve handled in the woods that night.” Livia nodded at Beckett, and he squeezed the trigger. When the sound had cleared, she counted out loud. “Seventeen.” Kyle stepped forward and replaced Livia at Beckett’s arm. “For Mouse. I didn’t know you well, but I wish I had.” The air snapped with the shot. “Eighteen.” Cole rubbed Kyle’s shoulder as he approached. He took the gun from Beckett’s hand. “For Mouse, who protected Beckett from himself for years.” The gun popped again. “Nineteen.” Blake thought for a moment with the gun pointed at the ground, then aimed it at the sky. “For Mouse, who saved Livia’s life when I couldn’t. Thank you is not enough.” The gun took his gratitude to the heavens. “Twenty.” Eve took the gun from Blake, the hand that had been shaking steadied. “Mouse, I wish you were still here. This place was better when you were part of it.” The last shot was the most jarring, juxtaposed with the perfect silence of its wake. As if the bullet was a key in a lock, the gray skies opened and a quiet, lovely snow shower filtered down. The flakes decorated the hair of the six mourners like glistening knit caps. Eve turned her face to be bathed in the fresh flakes. “Twenty-one,” she said softly, replacing her earpiece.

I cried out everything I had kept locked inside for years, sending it all into the twilight sky.

She was fucking perfection. She was my light. A blazing golden light. When you’re locked in perpetual darkness, you’ll do anything to fucking chase that light. La mia luce…

he flipped the lock.

As always, he didn’t want to embrace the truth, but it was there, locked deep in his heart.

Police Constable Nigel Cole dropped the handset into the lap of PC Sandra MacIntyre, who had managed to sleep through the entire radio exchange as well as the squawking of the crows.

Eve looked away for a moment, then locked her ridiculous baby blues on him. She whipped a knife out of God knows where and held it in front of her face. Oh, crap. She’s gonna try to kill Cole’s girl.

said, “What if this is simply the dark before the sun?” “What?” “What if we are being held in midnight, AK? Both of us locked in the dark of our pasts. Together. And maybe we must endure the darkness for a while.

She locked the brakes on her chair, gripped the handles, and then pushed herself to a standing position. Her arms shook a bit, but she transferred herself to the couch smoothly, crossing her legs before reaching for the remote resting on the table.

She had been called mi princesa hermosa, but the tales her mother had told weren't only about the pale blond ones locked in towers waiting for a prince to come. Janeta had heard tales of African princesses, brave and strong, fighting to protect their people.

Tough shit, sweet cheeks. Lesson two, there’s more to life than being caged in a protective bubble. You had it at that cult; now you’re locking yourself away here. Gotta take life by the balls at some point and squeeze those fuckers with the skill of a whore.

You going somewhere with that finger there, darlin’?” His lip kicked up at the side. “You’re fucking beautiful, beauty queen.” I took hold of his hand and sat up. Tank watched every movement I made. The guy had been locked up for three years. He got out two days ago. He must have been bursting for a fuck. I kissed each finger, then, when his mouth was just an inch from mine, pushed his hand to the crotch of my jeans and said, “I like having my stomach stroked as much as the next girl, darlin’, but I’d rather feel those fingers all up in my pussy.

What if we are being held in midnight, AK? Both of us locked in the dark of our pasts. Together. And maybe we must endure the darkness for a while.” I swallowed, eyes fixed on hers. “But then, one day will come the sunrise. The darkness will need, and the sunlight will pour in. Sunrise, AK. Just imagine.” She smiled and nearly broke my fucking heart. “We can chase the sunrise together. We can be the sunrise…together.” “Yeah” I said, unable to get the word ‘sunrise’ from my head. I wanted that. I wanted the fucking sunrise. I wanted the sunrise with Red.

I want you here. With me. All the time. I want to come home and hear the shower running and get excited because I know you're in it. I want to struggle every morning to get up and go to the gym because I hate the idea of leaving your warm body behind in bed. I want to hear a key turn in the lock and feel contented knowing you're home.

Well, a big part of it is how people addicted to crack were treated back in the day.” I sniff and start walking. “People acted like those addicts were soulless zombies, or jokes, or problems to lock away and take their babies from. Now white people get hooked on something, and we’re building fancy new facilities to research how to fix things.

In the wake of your Worst, if you fail to face reality, you will deaden your soul. If you shut yourself off from the pain, you will lock out joy. If you refuse to enter the reality of your suffering, you will not be able to enter into the blessings of life. Your heart will become hardened and closed and unhealed. Distance will develop in all of your relationships, both human and divine.

He slammed his cup down. Coffee splashed over the rim and puddled around the base. “What on earth gave you the idea I want space? I want you here. With me. All the time. I want to come home and hear the shower running and get excited because I know you’re in it. I want to struggle every morning to get up and go to the gym because I hate the idea of leaving your warm body behind in bed. I want to hear a key turn in the lock and feel contented knowing you’re home. I don’t want fucking space, Harper.” Harper laughed. “What’s funny?” “I didn’t mean space. I meant space, like closet space, a drawer in the bedroom, part of the counter in the bathroom.” Trent’s mouth twitched, a slight smile making its way to his lips. “Like a compromise. A commitment that I want more. I seem to recall you telling me in the car about something being a step in the right direction to a goal we both agreed on. Well, I want all those things you just said, with you, eventually. And if we start to leave things at each other’s places, it’s a step, right?” Trent reached up, flexing his delicious tattooed bicep, and scratched the side of his head. Without speaking, he leapt to his feet, grabbing Harper and pulling her into a fireman’s lift. “Trent,” she squealed, kicking her feet to get free. “What are you doing?” He slapped her butt playfully and laughed as he carried her down the hallway. Reaching the bedroom, Trent threw her onto the bed. “We’re doing space. Today, right now.” He started pulling open his drawers, looking inside each one before pulling stuff out of the top drawer and dividing it between the others. “Okay, this is for your underwear. I need to see bras, panties, and whatever other girly shit you have in here before the end of the day.” Like a panther on the prowl, Trent launched himself at the bed, grabbing her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed before sweeping her into his arms to walk to the bathroom. He perched her on the corner of the vanity, where his stuff was spread across the two sinks. “Pick one.” “Pick one what?” “Sink. Which do you want?” “You’re giving me a whole sink? Wait … stop…” Trent grabbed her and started tickling her. Harper didn’t recognize the girly giggles that escaped her. Pointing to the sink farthest away from the door, she watched as he pushed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and styling products to the other side of the vanity. He did the same thing with the vanity drawers and created some space under the sink. “I expect to see toothbrush, toothpaste, your shampoo, and whatever it is that makes you smell like vanilla in here.” “You like the vanilla?” It never ceased to surprise her, the details he remembered. Turning, he grabbed her cheeks in both hands and kissed her hard. He trailed kisses behind her ear and inhaled deeply before returning to face her. “Absolutely. I fucking love vanilla,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. “Oh and I’d better see a box of tampons too.” “Oh my goodness, you are beyond!” Harper blushed furiously. “I want you for so much more than just sex, Harper.

What if this is simply the dark before the sun?” “What?” “What if we are being held in midnight, AK? Both of us locked in the dark of our pasts. Together. And maybe we must endure the darkness for a while.” I swallowed, eyes fixed on hers. “But then, one day will come the sunrise. The darkness will end, and the sunlight will pour in. Sunrise, AK. Just imagine.” She smiled and nearly broke my fucking heart. “We can chase the sunrise together. We can be the sunrise . . . together.

In the sanctity of this place, the center of his purpose, Kyle was everywhere he looked. He almost laughed when he remembered how he’d questioned Livia’s devotion to Blake after knowing him such a short time, but he didn’t make a sound. Even a week with Kyle would feel like forever. Cole looked over at the two pews where they’d stood when he first saw her. When their eyes locked it had been like a head-on collision—jarring, shocking, and something he wasn’t fast enough to stop. When their hands touched, their souls had stepped out of their bodies and joined. But Kyle and Cole could only stand in shocked stillness. Cole knew at some point he’d sent Livia on her way, his eyes never leaving Kyle. His sole focus had been on keeping her. That was all he knew for sure. He had to keep her there until his soul was done seducing hers. Eventually they’d moved to sit next to each other. His soul had begun an intimate exploration of hers, without asking his permission, and Cole had to talk as if he wasn’t affected at all. As he gazed at Kyle, her wide eyes made him believe she felt exactly the same.

Keep the creepy messages coming, is what I say. We’ll eat like kings!” “Who the fuck wants to eat goat?” Tank said, lip curled. “I’ll have you know that goat is a delicacy in many countries,” Viking said. “Heard it washes down well with a nice savory red wine.” “Yeah, ’cause you drink red wine,” Tank said, shaking his head. Viking leaned forward. “I may have the body of a Greek god with flaming red locks, but I’ll have you know I’m a sensitive and cultured fucker too.” “The only culture you got is growing in a petri dish in a doctor’s office,” Tank shot back.

I’m sorry,” I say and the words start spilling out. “I’m sorry. I should have just talked to you and then you wouldn’t have felt guilty and then you wouldn’t have gotten into this accident. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” I’m still holding his hand and he’s looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes. “You’re sorry?” he asks in confusion. “You’re sorry? For what? It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” “I was being a baby,” I tell him. “I didn’t know what to say to you and I was trying to be strong but I was so upset that you were kissing Elena.” “Elena kissed me,” he answers. “I just want to clarify that. And she kissed me because I had just told her that I can’t see her anymore. Because I want to be with someone else.” “Someone else?” My voice is small in the large hospital suite and all of a sudden my heart is numb again. This time, it is numb because it is waiting hopefully for words that I am desperately wanting to hear. “Yes,” he nods. “Someone else.” My heart is still waiting. There is a pause. Then another pause. He doesn’t say anything so I do. “Is it anyone I know?” I look down and he looks up and our eyes lock. “I should hope so since it is you,” he says. My heart stops. And then starts again. And then I bend down and kiss Dante Gili-bear-ti as softly and gently as I can. “You want to be with me?” I ask this as I pull away and look at him. He smells like iodine and rubbing alcohol and bleached hospital sheets. It’s a foreign, unfamiliar smell. And I don’t like it. But his hand is strong and he squeezes mine. He nods. “Ever since you ran into me in the airport.” “You ran into me,” I answer. He rolls his eyes and I kiss him again.

Beckett watched Cole closely. This had been some next level-bullshit. And Cole had already been through some caveman-brutal violence coming up with his horrible mother. A betrayal like that cut deep and hard. He watched as Cole’s eyes filled up, and he curled his hands into fists. His breath came in gasps. His brother’s reality might possibly be caving in. Who the fuck knew. Beckett put the safety on and set down his gun. He turned in his seat and leaned over, grabbing Cole’s shirt and twisting it hard at his chest, pulling the sobbing man closer to him. It was one of the ways he scared the shit out of people, this look he would give, but not now. “Look at me. Fucking look at me!” Cole’s hazel eyes finally locked on Beckett’s. “You are never alone. You will never be alone! We’re together. Do you understand? I will murder the whole world to keep you out of that shit! It will never happen to you again. Do you hear me? Do you fucking hear me?” Cole screamed back at Beckett. Not words, just a guttural noise. Pain. Pain vocalized. Blake careened the car to the side of the road and cut the lights. After it was in park, he turned and faced Cole as well. Cole screamed again. Anger. Hot tears, rage. Pain, so much pain. Beckett panicked. Was it something I said? Shit. Was I too late? Shit. Blake crawled over the seat, sat next to Cole, and he started screaming too. Jesus Christ. The two of them were fucking insane. And if they were going crazy, he would follow. Beckett crawled over too, sloppy and kicking his brothers as he planted himself in the backseat. It took a second before he could match them, before he could go to that place in his head and heart and scream. But he did. For a few heartbeats, three teenage boys raged at their childhood. They hollered at fate. They screamed out pure need. It was the sound of Peter Pan fucking dying, the ghost of dreams that would never be—until Cole started cough-sob-laughing. It was catching, the sliding from one emotion to another. Blake was next, holding his stomach and laughing. Finally Beckett held his head and did the same. They collapsed in a heap, slapping at each other in their hysteria. When they finally caught their breath, they didn’t need words. They didn’t need anything but each other. Cole put up his arm and Blake and Beckett grabbed on. Never alone.

I am Nikolai Wroth.” Why did that name sound so familiar? She squinted up at him. “You are a friend of my aunts?” she said, her voice sounding faint. “With one. And it seems only one.” A short laugh with no humor. “Myst is my wife.” “Myst married?” Was that where she’d been? No, no way. “That’s funny.” “The jest’s on me, I’m afraid.” As they reached the manor, he bellowed, “Annika, call off the goddamn wraiths and let me in.” Emma stared up at the sky, seeing swirling red swaths of ragged cloth circling the house. Occasionally she spied a gaunt, skeletal face, but it would change to beauty if you met its eyes. The price for their protection was hair from each of the Valkyrie within. The wraiths wove each lock into a massive braid, and when it grew long enough, they bent all living Valkyrie to their will for a time. “Myst hasn’t returned yet,” someone called from the house. “But you know that, or else you’d both be naked and fornicating on the front lawn.” “The night’s young. Give us time.” To himself, he murmured, “And it was a field a mile away.” “Don’t you have an appointment to go to, vampire?” Emma stiffened. Vampire? But his eyes weren’t red. “Did you follow me?” “No, I was awaiting Myst’s return from shopping and sensed you trace into the woods.” A vampire waiting for Myst? He’d said she was his wife. She sucked in a breath. “You’re the general, aren’t you,” she whispered. “The one Myst had to be pried from.” She thought the corners of his lips quirked. “Is that what you heard?” At her solemn nod, he said, “It was mutual, I assure you.” He glanced away down the drive, as if willing Myst to return, and said almost to himself, “How much lingerie can one female need . . . ?” Suddenly Annika was shrieking, running for her, vowing to kill him ever so slowly. Amazingly, his body was still relaxed. “If you do not cease trying to take off my head, Annika, we will have words.” “What have you done to her?” she cried. “Obviously, I clawed her, bloodied her, and burned her, and now, oddly, I offer her up to you.

Without warning, he fingered the small, black tattoo on her lower back. “What does this script mean?” She did gasp then, as much from the shock of his touch as from her visceral reaction to it. She wanted to arch up to his hand and couldn’t understand why. She snapped, “Are you done groping me?” “Canna say. Tell me what the marking means.” Mari had no idea. She’d had it ever since she could remember. All she knew was that her mother used to write out that mysterious lettering in all of her correspondence. Or, at least her mother had before she’d abandoned Mari in New Orleans to go on her two-hundred-year-long druid sabbatical— He tapped her there, impatiently awaiting an answer. “It means ‘drunk and lost a bet.’ Now keep your hands to yourself unless you want to be an amphibian.” When the opening emerged ahead, she crawled heedlessly for it and scrambled out with her lantern swinging wildly. She’d taken only three steps into the new chamber before he’d caught her wrist, spinning her around. As his gaze raked over her, he reached forward and pulled a lock of her long hair over her shoulder. He seemed unaware that he was languidly rubbing his thumb over the curl. “Why hide this face behind a cloak?” he murmured, cocking his head to the side as he studied her. “No’ a damn thing’s wrong with you that I can tell. But you look fey. Explains the name.” “How can I resist these suave compliments?” He was right about the name though. Many of the fey had names beginning in Mari or Kari. She gave his light hold on her hair a pointed look, and he dropped it like it was hot, then scowled at her as if she were to blame.

Truth or dare,” I ask, my voice edgy with anticipation and yearning. I know he’ll answer dare – and it will be the last one I give him. “Dare.” “Fuck me,” I beg. He immediately rolls over, gently resting his body on top of mine. I spread my legs, positioning his trim waist and hips in between my thighs. The hard outline of his cock grazes the front of my panties, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He slides his hands under the covers. His fingers sneak under the waistband of my panties. He sits up to slowly glide them down my legs, revealing body in the moonlight. He tosses them, dripping wet, by the side of the bed and the then slides off his tight briefs. His erect cock stands at attention once removed from its fabric confines, pulsing up and down in rhythm with Cole’s racing heartbeat. With the covers now cast to the side, Cole leans over me, devouring my lips. My lips open and I yield him my tongue, which he handles adroitly, flicking it with his own and sucking it with his lips. He leans over to the side of the bed and bends down, picking up his shorts. The movement of his body over mine sends the peaks of his deeply sculpted abs gliding across my soft skin, generating a shiver that trembles through my body. He pulls out his wallet from his shorts pocket and extracts a condom. He kneels on the bed and works the condom down the expansive length of his solid shaft. He imposes his body back over mine, covering me with his huge torso. The length of his cock rests against my warm pussy, throbbing against it. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles together, pulling him closer toward me. His rough, masculine scent fills my nostrils. He kisses my neck, the light stubble on the side of his check rubbing against my skin. I buck my hips toward him, pressing his cock against me. The bottom of his shaft rests on my warm opening, the tip extends up to my belly button. A delicious anxiousness overtakes me. Will I really be able to fit all of him inside me? “Fuck, Emma, you’re so sexy,” he moans while raking his lips and tongue up and down my neck. He nibbles lightly on my earlobe, his hot, staggered breath brushing against the side of my face. “I want you inside me,” I pant to him. He lifts his hips up and steadies his cock at the precipice of my slick center. He looks me in the eye, and I nod, imploring him to plunge inside me. He does. I shut my eyes as a brief wave of pain washes over me, the shock of accommodating his massive size inside. It soon subsides and my body comfortably accustomed itself to his presence. He slowly pumps in and out of me. I bite down on my bottom lip, waves of pleasure erupting from my center and traversing every inch of my body. My stomach is in knots and my breath is quick and sharp. Every time he lifts his hips to thrust out, my wet cavern craves for him to come back – and he immediately does, pushing himself back in, the length of his shaft rubbing against my insides, the friction driving me wild with ecstasy. I lose track of time as he continues to thrust in and out. I buck my hips against him, hungry for his full length. I tighten my grip with my legs around his waist, greedy for his body to press against mine. “Fuck, Emma, shit,” he moans. I can only respond with unarticulated moans of pleasure and gasps for breath. “Oh, fuck, Cole, I’m gonna come,” I announce. I shut my eyes tight and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. He thrusts one more time, strongly, and my orgasm erupts. Pulses of pleasure shoot up and down my spine and turn my insides, my chest beats and my heartrate booms against my eardrums. The outside world disappears as I feel my body melting into Cole’s. Cole collapses next to me, a sheen of sweat glistening over his body in the moonlight, highlighting the twists and turns of his musculature. Slowly the world comes back into focus and a blissful

Cole looked up at the red brick terrace –three storey with dormer windows, steps up to the front door, thin brown streaks running down the flaking white paint from

Pike approached the man from behind. He shifted left or right just enough to stay in the man’s blind spot, moving so quickly that he was outside the office one moment and across the lot in the next, watching the key go in the lock, seeing the door open— Pike hooked his left arm under the man’s chin, and lifted. He closed his arm on the man’s throat and squeezed as hard as he could, shoving the man into the room as he brought out the Kimber, using the man as a shield. Pike expected more men, but the room was empty. A single room and a bath. Pike toed the door closed, still holding the man. The drapes were open, so Pike could see no one was in the parking lot and no one had stirred from the office. The man kicked and thrashed, but Pike held him up and off balance with a knee. The man punched backwards, clawed at Pike’s arm, and made a gurgling sound. He was a strong man in very good shape. His nails cut into Pike’s skin. Pike slipped his free arm across the back of the man’s neck and pushed the man’s throat into the crook of his elbow. Pike squeezed and pushed and held it. The thrashing slowed. The man stopped kicking. His body went limp.

Forty-two minutes later, keys worked the lock, the door swung open, and Lucas Worley came halfway through the door before seeing me. He was carrying a newspaper and a Starbucks cup. He looked surprised, but he hadn’t yet seen the dope on the table. “What the fuck is this? Who are you?” “Come inside and close the door, Luke. Can I call you Luke? Or is it Lucas? Lucas seems pretentious.” He was a little bit taller than he had looked in the car. His eyes were bright and sharp, and he spoke quickly. You could tell he was used to talking. You could tell he was used to saying bright things and having them appreciated, and you could tell that he thought he was brighter than he really was. Probably where the smugness came from. He said, “Maybe I’m confused. Isn’t this my house? Isn’t that my sofa? The only thing that doesn’t seem to belong here is you.” Showing attitude.

My eyes lock with his as every filthy, slutty, dirty instinct he brings out in me comes roaring to the surface. “Please give me your cum, daddy.

Deep purple moved through the blue as Pike left. Pike was creepy good at this stuff, but Pike had taken a serious risk by entering Jon’s home. A cocked-and-locked Kimber .45 was only inches away, not that it had done Jon any good. Embarrassing. Jon

I left through the front door just like the Koreans, nodded at the officers the way strangers do, and mumbled something about the heat. Spurlow nodded back and Lange ignored me, but the red-haired guy locked eyes with me and didn’t let go. I kept walking, just a man going to his car at the end of the day, only I wasn’t. Each step was careful and measured, and with each step I hoped they wouldn’t stop me. When I passed through the gate, Spurlow and Lange were inside, but the red-haired guy was in the door. He was watching me with eyes so narrow they looked like slits. Joe

Maggie jumped to a full alert, her eyes locked on the greasy cube. Scott threw it hard, and Maggie sprinted after it. The chunk bounced and skipped through the grass thirty yards away. Scott didn’t know if she could see it, but canine eyes were far more sensitive to motion than human eyes, and her nose would do the rest. Maggie’s

Pike dug his thumb into the side of the man’s neck where the C3 nerve root emerged from the third vertebra, crushing the root into the bone. This caused the man’s shoulder and chest to go numb with a sharp flash of pain. His diaphragm locked and his breathing stopped mid-breath. The C3 nerve controlled the diaphragm. “If

Pike dug his thumb into the side of the man’s neck where the C3 nerve root emerged from the third vertebra, crushing the root into the bone. This caused the man’s shoulder and chest to go numb with a sharp flash of pain. His diaphragm locked and his breathing stopped mid-breath. The C3 nerve controlled the diaphragm. “If you get up, I’ll do this again. It will hurt worse.” Pike released the pressure, and knew the man’s shoulder and arm now burned as if they had been flushed with napalm. “We

A young Latin guy with thick shoulders and dull eyes came out when I stopped, as if he had been waiting. “You the magazine guy?” The magazine guy. “That’s right. Elvis Cole. I have a ten o’clock with Ms. Morales.” “I gotta unlock the gate. See the empty spot where it says Delivery? Park there. You might want to put up the top and lock it.” “Think it’ll be safe?” That would be me, flashing the ironic smile at their overkill battlestar security. “For sure. They only steal clean cars.” That would be him, putting me in my place. He shook his head sadly as I drove past. “I

The front door was a standard wood entry, stained dark to match the house. A Master deadbolt was set in the frame above the knob lock. Cole pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves, selected a pick and a tension wrench from his pick kit, and went to work. Two minutes for the deadbolt, one for the knob. On-the-job training courtesy of the United States Army. Cole

The tall man’s pistol suddenly appeared in front of Orlato’s face, locked dead center between his eyes. The flat copper snouts of its bullets slept in their cylinder crypts. “Elvis

The lock was removed, and the door rose with a ratcheting clatter, filling the truck with grim red shadows. Jack checked the time. 2:55 A.M. The people ahead of them started to move. Krista’s

…I refuse to acknowledge the burst of heat that lances through my chest when our hands connect. I also refuse to dwell on the tingling sensation where her skin touches mine, or the way her eyes flicker with something forbidden when our gazes lock.

Adrenaline hindered his accuracy, resulting in him landing only one grazing hit. The slide locked back, the Sergeant backpedaled

What was so special about me that you thought it was a good idea to ruin my life?” “You were you. Your crazy ass mother, that falling apart house, and being kept under lock and key. In spite of it all, you were this bright spot. Nothing ever kept you down. I didn’t know how you could be that way. I wanted it, you, for myself. Besides the whole ‘boy having the hots for the girl’ thing I had going on.

Her lips spread against mine, and it felt like heaven. Her in my arms, my cock still inside her pussy, filled with my cum. Her soft breasts against my hard chest. Our arms locked tight around each other like we never wanted to let go. Perfection.

It didn’t seem right, it didn’t seem right at all, and part of me wondered—as I looked at the empty kitchen and the empty living room and the locked glass doors leading outside—if my agreement with Felix didn’t cover guests, if it only covered myself. “Paula?” I repeated, my voice a bit louder. On the kitchen counter was the note I had written on the back of a subscription envelope from Smithsonian: “Paula—Off to run some errands. Will be back.

Cole blustered out of the lobby after us. “I want to know what’s going on. Two innocent people have been slaughtered in cold blood. You owe the people of Seattle an explanation.” I turned on him. “I owe the people of Seattle a full day’s work for a full day’s pay. I don’t owe you a fucking thing.” The other cop heard this exchange with a poorly concealed grin. “If he gives you any trouble, lock him up,” I said as I stalked away.

So Pike and his guys set up, dug in, and waited, night-vision goggles, commo buds in their ears, weapons locked and hot, good to go.

People will try to convince you that you don't deserve to live. That you don't deserve to exist. They'll ignore your voice. Lock you up. They'll even kill you to take you out of this world. And through it all, you have to fight. Fight to remind yourself that you do matter. That you do deserve to exist. That you do deserve to have your voice heard. When the whole world's trying to convince you that you don't matter, it can be a constant struggle - day in, day out - to remember that you do. But you have to. Because if you don't, then that's really when you've lost yourself.

Sorry, I had to break the tension; it was making me uncomfortable. It reminded me a lot of some of my dates in high school. Just before the guy copped a feel.” “Sorry,” Kelsey said, her apology directed at Cole. “She doesn’t interact with people very often. It’s . . . like a puppy that gets locked in the laundry room all day.” “Should I get her a treat?” he asked. “Hey,” Alexa said, her tone defensive. “Is the treat bacon?” “Milk-Bone,” he said. “Then I’ll pass and head to bed.” She looped her arm through Kelsey’s, and they turned, stepping off the porch.

Quinn claims that they are just friends, just like I claim there is only a friendship with Chase and nothing more, but we both know better. Why she tries to deny it to Piper and Charlotte, I’m not sure, but she constantly does. It doesn’t take long before she and Jamison are lip-locked on the sidewalk

You know, you don’t have to be a dick about it.” Narrator: I’m just telling it like I see it. “Yeah, well . . . there weren’t any chocolate-covered chips, everyone can see right through you and your inability to be clever and find a rhyme for lips.” Narrator: Watch yourself, Snow Daddy. I control this story, and if you want any shot at locking lips, then check the attitude. “Who says I even wanted another kiss?” Narrator: Oh, Cole, all the readers and listeners can smell the desperation. Cute that you think otherwise. Now on with the story