It’s a cliché, I know, but I never believed in love at first sight, and then I met Nick.
The alarm cut through my sleep like a hot knife through something warm and fluffy and comforting. I opened my eyes and groaned. One moment I’d been deep in blissful oblivion, the next it was Monday morning in the real world.
“It’s your turn to cook tonight,” Rachel said as we were spooning on the sofa.
Dr. West lifted my legs and strapped my feet into the stirrups. He tugged on the straps to make sure they were secure. He tied my hands down too, obviously, he knew from experience what kind of a state this treatment put me in.
Wake me on a glorious summer Sunday morning by tapping on my window. Grin at me when I see you. Ease my window open and slip into my room. Move like a lion stalking its prey as you come towards my bed, but keep that gorgeous, mischievous grin on your face.
You can keep your sparkly vampires. They’re not for me. Give me a shaggy, wild, barely-controlled beast of a man any day. I want hair and fur and claws and rippling muscle. And that’s exactly what I got with him.