firnag

“Love you? Of course I love you. Baby, I fucking worship you.”
― Josh Lanyon, The Dark Tide

“He shifted over without comment, lifting the blankets, and I scrambled into the warm sheets beside him. He smelled like soap and sleep and bare skin. He smelled familiar. Not the deja vu familiar of Guy or Mel. Familiar like...the ache in your chest of homesickness, of longing for harbor after weeks of rough seas or craving a fire's warmth after snow--or wanting back something you should never have given away.”
― Josh Lanyon, The Dark Tide

“Why can't you say it?" I hardened my voice. "Because I'm telling you, you never have. I'd have remembered."
He stared at me with disbelief. [...]
"Love you? Of course I love you. Baby, I fucking worship you.”
― Josh Lanyon, The Dark Tide

“Why can't you say it?" I hardened my voice. "Because I'm telling you, you never have. I'd have remembered."
He stared at me with disbelief. Then he lunged forward, pushing me flat in the pillows once more. He leaned over me, his mouth a brush of lips away from my own, his breath warm on my face.
"Love you? Of course I love you. Baby, I fucking worship you.”
― Josh Lanyon, The Dark Tide