Restore Me Jl Seegars Quotes

Do you want me to go to jail, Sloane? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if I let you go and another fucking person in this shit hole touches you tonight.

What she is”—he says brusquely—“is someone you will never touch again. In fact, you won’t even think about what it was like to touch her. If you do, I’ll find you and I will fucking end you.

... throwing myself into work didn’t do a damn thing to ease the pain of existing in a world where the one woman I want can never be mine.

No, I—” I pause to figure out exactly what I’m going to say, and his entire face falls as he starts to pull away. “I want more than a night, Dominic.

strangled noise before he swipes a thumb over the corner of my mouth and pulls back with a fleck of cream-cheese icing smeared across the pad of his finger. I watch shamelessly as he brings the digit to his mouth and, with a flick of his tongue that sends an arc of electricity down my spine, sucks it clean. My mouth hangs open as my brain struggles to process what I’ve just witnessed. Dominic smirks at me,

happily pay it. I’ll give up my soul for a moment of your time. I’ll sell everything I own for a night in your bed. There’s no sacrifice I wouldn’t make to hear you laugh, make you smile, or shield you from pain.

Let’s be clear, whatever the price is for being with you, I’ll happily pay it. I’ll give up my soul for a moment of your time. I’ll sell everything I own for a night in your bed. There’s no sacrifice I wouldn’t make to hear you laugh, make you smile, or shield you from pain.

Being happy doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten what you’ve lost. Grief doesn’t work that way, Sloane. Human emotion is more complex than feeling one thing at a time, and happiness doesn’t erase grief, it enhances it. It makes the knowledge of what you’ve lost more acute, but it also makes it possible for you to open yourself up again, to make room for what you’ve lost to come back to you in a different way.

I’m starting to think I should have stuck with my original lunch plans.” He releases an amused huff. “Missing your stapler and office plants already?” “Not really. I just prefer the company of inanimate objects over you.” “Better conversation?” He counters drily. “Something like that. At least when they ignore me, I can attribute it to their inability to talk back.

The name and location of the person who put those tears in your eyes.

I’m glad to know you are capable of forming those words with your mouth.” “I’m capable of doing a lot of things with my mouth.

I think, we’re well past the point of discussing whether or not I like you. As for how you feel about me….” He starts moving, forcing me backward until my back collides with the wall. “Well, you could say you hate me right now, and I’d still want you to sit on my face.

I always try to choose love over fear, and I think you’d be proud of me for that.

You take the rain, so they can dance in the sunshine.

Well, are you?” “Am I what?” “Trouble.” “That depends, angel.

You could have texted and told me to turn my ass around! I came here to get my mind off of him. Not to stare at his smug face while sipping overpriced drinks!” “It’s nice to know you’ve been thinking of me, Sloane.

Don’t get too excited, Dominic. You’re always at the front of my mind when I’m contemplating murder.

It’s universal club speak for why yes, fine stranger, you can just grope me on the dance floor without so much as a hello.

Especially if he keeps saying her name like she’s a goddess whose altar he worships at every night.

Eric was my better half, but Dom is the mirror image of my soul. The place where all my shadows and every burst of flame are known, understood, and loved.

Why do men think they can do things that change everything and then lay the burden of voicing exactly what it changed at our feet?

That night in the club, you made me feel like nothing in the world could touch me as long as you were there shielding me. And then when you brought me home and waited for me to turn on a light before you pulled off…it might sound weird, but you made me feel safe and cared for.

People only get one chance at happiness, one shot at real love,

I thought he got a sick satisfaction out of striking the match and watching me burn, but now I know his fascination with my fire is because of how closely it resembles his own. Eric was my better half, but Dom is the mirror image of my soul. The place where all my shadows and every burst of flame are known, understood, and loved.

I don’t want you to kill him any more than you want me to kill Chris.” We pull back and look at each other. Her eyes shine with the kind of understanding that can only come from a woman who’s living with a broken heart as well. “Well,” she sighs. “I guess the bastards get to live another day.

With my lips wrapped around his dick. With his cum in my hair, on my breasts, and down my throat. Honestly, I didn’t know it was possible to have so many orgasms without actually having sex.

My mouth falls open in outrage even as my heart soars with a joy that can only come from being known and understood by someone. From never having to ask for what you want or need but being given it anyway.

Because that’s exactly what this is. Love. Can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t breathe without you, love. Your smile lights up my world, and your arms feel like home, love. I could stand here all day and watch you do the most mundane task without ever getting bored, love.

Dom was the one holding the needle that stitched my heart back together. And he’d done it quietly, carefully, and at great cost to himself because he knew there was no hope in finding the piece of my heart I’d lost four years ago when Eric died, so he gave me pieces of his instead. Using them to put mine back together again, to make me whole.

Oh, God. I’m so far gone for this man, so completely and utterly in his control, that I would be disgusted with myself if I wasn’t so damn turned on. My hands shake as I retrieve the toy from the drawer and pull it back into bed with me.

He carries me across the threshold and into the adjoining bathroom before setting me on the double vanity. Before I can blink, he’s kneeling in front of me again. Pulling my heels off and massaging my feet one at a time. My head dips back.

And just like that my body is covering hers again. I seek out her mouth and take her lips in a sloppy, wet kiss that reflects how desperate I am for this woman. To own her. To consume her. To love, and be loved by, her.

Every part of you belongs to me, and I might not be worthy of the job, but I promise you I won’t rest until all of your needs are met. All you have to do is trust me to take care of them. Can you do that, angel?” Can you trust me to take care of your body and your heart? Sloane nods. “Yes.

Because this place doesn’t feel like home unless he’s here. Because he’s the only person who’s felt like home since Eric. Because I belong to him in all the ways I never thought I could belong to anyone again.

His eyes on my face. His fingers in my hair. His lips on my skin.

I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the feel of him inside of me, the delicious stretch of my walls that balances neatly on the edge of pleasure and pain.

All I’ve wanted for you since Eric has been gone is for you to find someone worthy of all the love you have to give.

If you love this man, if he’s as special as you say he is, then you make sure you hold on to him. Grab this second chance at love by the balls and don’t let go until it stops feeling like a gift straight from God himself.

The heady rush of power as you watch someone bend completely to your will, obeying your every command just to please you.

Skin hunger. That was the term she used, and apparently, it’s a normal reaction to not receiving the amount of loving, human touch you desire for an extended amount of time.

Human emotion is more complex than feeling one thing at a time, and happiness doesn’t erase grief, it enhances it. It makes the knowledge of what you’ve lost more acute, but it also makes it possible for you to open yourself up again, to make room for what you’ve lost to come back to you in a different way.

Do you need it or do you need me?

Dom. I’m so fucking yours, and you don’t even know it because all of the stuff that’s happened over the last few days has stopped me from being able to tell you the one thing I’ve known for a while now: I love you. I love you so much, and you can try to scare me away, but I’m not going anywhere unless you look me in the eyes and tell me this is over.

To restore me.

He crosses his arms and runs a thumb over his bottom lip. A gesture I’ve come intimately familiar with. One that I know means he’s trying to decide exactly how he wants me. Because with me and him, it’s never a question of if.

Even in moments fraught with desire and need, he still finds a way to be gentle with me. To remind me that I’m safe and cared for. Yet another reason why I love him.

It’s all out there now, angel. Every truth I’ve hidden from you, everything I’ve wished I could tell you for as long as I’ve known you. You know it. There’s nothing left that can break us. Tell me you believe it.” I place my hands over his. “I believe it.

I told him I would rather wear the same wig for the rest of my life than spend a minute in his presence.

I’ve spent my whole life letting her drive the bus because I thought she knew what she was doing, but she doesn’t. She really fucking doesn’t.

I hold onto Sloane while my ears ring and my blood pounds with the satisfaction of finally unleashing more than a decade’s worth of love, hope, desire and need onto the only woman who was made to handle it.

I love him. I’m in love with Dominic Alexander. Except I can’t be. Not just because I still feel like I don’t deserve this, but because there’s nothing I can do about it.

I could put it in your mouth. I could fuck your face until I come down your throat and you swallow every last drop…” “Yes, please.

If you did know, I wouldn’t have to tell you that you’re the only woman who has ever owned any part of me. And it’s always been you, Sloane. For twelve fucking years, you’ve walked around with my soul clutched between the same fingers you wear Eric’s rings on. You’re the ghost I’ve been chasing. Now look me in the eyes and tell me you already knew that.

Mothers are supposed to be kind, loving, and supportive of their children,

The one person I could never try to steal you away from. Not even if it meant watching you fall in love with him or standing beside him while he made you promises I never got the chance to. I watched you build a life with him, and it hurt. Wanting you. Loving you. Being yours when you were always his. It all hurt, and so I decided to try hating you instead.

It’s no wonder he took one look at me that night and felt relieved. We’ve always matched each other’s energy. Sometimes in the worst ways, but sometimes—especially over these last few weeks—in the very best ones.

In some ways, this whole monologue does sound weird, but somehow it also doesn’t. I get what it’s like to push down all of your true thoughts and feelings so people only get the most palatable version of you. Going through your life and only showing one part of yourself to the world seems exhausting.

It cost Eric his life. It cost Mama her son and Mal her brother.” The tears are back, blurring my vision so I can’t fully see his face. “It cost you your best friend. And I forgot. I woke up this morning and I was happy… ” “You deserve to be happy, angel.

It’s almost like he’s addicted to seeing my eyes shine with joy and happiness that’s aimed squarely at him.

You are not a mother. You’re a self-centered narcissist who cares more about status and perception than you’ve ever cared about me. I don’t expect you to apologize because I know you wouldn’t mean it. And for the record, if I ever have a child, I’ll never be the kind of mother you were to me.

I’d do anything to put a smile on your face, Sloane. Just say the word and it’s yours.

I could never regret you, angel.” He pulls our linked hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my fingers. “Even when you break my heart by saying shit like you hope you’re worth whatever this is costing me emotionally. Let’s be clear, whatever the price is for being with you, I’ll happily pay it. I’ll give up my soul for a moment of your time. I’ll sell everything I own for a night in your bed. There’s no sacrifice I wouldn’t make to hear you laugh, make you smile, or shield you from pain.

Oh, but I am, angel. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be considering ripping your panties off, eating your pussy until you scream the walls down, and sending you back to your date with the juices of your orgasm running down your thighs.

The woman I love is happy. I can live with a shattered heart if it means theirs get to stay whole.

Yes, because I didn’t want you to waste your breath on the rest of that sentence when we both know I’m not going anywhere.” “You’re not?” I ask in a voice so small I can barely hear it. “No.

How is it possible for this man to see me so clearly, to say the things I need to hear even when I don’t know I need to hear them?

Here’s the worst thing about having an enemy: they’re always in your head.

The idea that anyone could treat her that way makes me want to rip the world apart with my bare hands.

The ebb and flow of waves crashing into you on the days your brain associates with that person. The sting of tears at the back of your eyeballs that force their way out regardless of where you are and what you’re doing. The way those tears taste exactly the same every time they fall. Like heartbreak, devastation, and open wounds that will never heal. That’s the only thing I taste today. The unique flavor of grief sticking to the roof of my mouth and making it impossible for me to speak

You lost a lot in a short amount of time, and I don’t know anyone who would be completely whole after that. But this idea you have in your head about not deserving to be happy is ridiculous. If anything, life owes you some good, joyful moments to give you a break from the grief you’ve been carrying around all by yourself.

There’s something to be said about the way desire can sweep in and erase every other thought in your head. The way lust can curl low in your belly and suddenly make you forget just moments ago you felt bereft, helpless, and on the verge of heartbreak. And when it happens, when the doubt and confusion are replaced by the all-consuming fire of wanting and being wanted, you’d be a fool to choose to ignore it. To opt for the uncertainty of reality when you can dive headfirst into the arms of your lover and be swept away by the decadent fantasy of nothing in the world mattering more than the invisible string linked between your heart and his, pulling you together with the kind of natural inevitability that only happens with magnets.

All of them starring my best friend’s wife: the woman I pretended to hate in the light of day but made love to in the darkest corners of my mind every night.

Angel.” He plants a kiss on my lips. “I’m jealous of the wind that gets to blow through your curls.” Another kiss, this time to my jaw. “Of the fabric that gets to hug your curves all day and the moonlight that streams across your skin at night.” A

Every pass of my lips over his is a hungry glide that doesn’t even begin to touch the need building inside of me. Not just the need to find my release or help him find his, but the need to be close to him. To climb inside of his skin and never come out. To etch myself in his veins until my name is written in his blood. To brand him with my touch the same way he’s branded me. To be as necessary to him as oxygen. To make him love me as much as I love him.

Not just the need to find my release or help him find his, but the need to be close to him. To climb inside of his skin and never come out. To etch myself in his veins until my name is written in his blood. To brand him with my touch the same way he’s branded me. To be as necessary to him as oxygen. To make him love me as much as I love him. To ensure that he’s as wrecked by this ill-advised relationship

How fitting that I would discover my need for both in his arms. In this relationship where pleasure could only ever exist with pain.

This is why I love him. Not because he buys me chocolate cheesecake just days before my period is about to start—though the timing really does make it more meaningful—but because he’s always thinking of me. Always trying to find new ways to make me smile and laugh.

Even in moments fraught with desire and need, he still finds a way to be gentle with me. To remind me that I’m safe and cared for.

Dom was the one holding the needle that stitched my heart back together. And he’d done it quietly, carefully, and at great cost to himself because he knew there was no hope in finding the piece of my heart I’d lost four years ago when Eric died, so he gave me pieces of his instead. Using them to put mine back together again, to make me whole. To restore me.

There’s no denying Dom is different, mainly because he’s always the one sending me off the deep end, but also because in the weeks we’ve been together, he’s shown me he’s willing to jump off the cliff with me if talking me off the edge isn’t an option.

I’ll do whatever it takes to have you, including letting you use me to fulfill every need and desire you have, but that kind of privilege comes with some rules. Do you want to hear them, angel?

and I’ll bear it because that’s what you do for the people you love. You put their needs before your own. You take the rain, so they can dance in the sunshine. You place a bandage over the gaping hole in your chest, so blood doesn’t spill on their shoes.

Careful, angel. I think silently. You might prefer the asshole to what you’ve just awakened.

I didn’t spend all of my time craving her infuriating presence.

I could never hate you, angel,” I whisper against her skin. “I’ve always loved you too much for that.

But I need to know that you’re safe and comfortable more than I need anything else, so hear me when I say this: the decision about taking this to another level will be mine and mine alone.

My best friend is happy. The woman I love is happy. I can live with a shattered heart if it means theirs get to stay whole.