Admit you’re jealous, Emma.” “Never,” she said defiantly. “Just your nipples then. They’re pouting.

— Kate Meader

And then that mouth was speaking Russian, rough, sexy, sweet nothing's that drove her wild. Forced out all common sense. His mouth trailed her jaw, delivering little nips and hot licks to her neck.“Bella”—something in Russian—“Bella”—more Russian—“Bella.” As if one language was inadequate to express how she affected him.

— Kate Meader

An inappropriate attraction to your friend’s fiancé was grounds for disbarment from the Woman Club. Neither did it make a lick of sense. He was uncouth, uneducated, uncivilized. All of their conversations back then had been unholy bicker fests where they charged from the opposite ends of the spectrum, determined not to meet in the middle but to rip pieces out of each other on the drive by.

— Kate Meader

But that kiss did more than turn her into a puddle of lust. It terrified her. Not because of how soul-searingly good it was, but because kisses like that don’t just happen. Kisses like that implied history and connection and bone-deep knowledge, and it made her question everything that had existed between them before.

— Kate Meader

But you just got laid. Very well, I might add. Isn’t that enough to tide you over for a while?”“Maybe for a woman. But if a man doesn’t use the goods, they shrivel up—” She rolled her eyes.“—and now that I’ve realized what I’ve been missing, and you’ve done such a great job getting me back up on the horse, for which I’m immensely grateful, then I think I’m ready to spread my wings.” He motioned to the wing spreading area. His groin. “This really shouldn’t go to waste, now, should it?

— Kate Meader

Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Falling is easy. Staying that way is hard. But I’ve been choosing hard all my life, so why the hell would the life I make with the woman who completes me be any different? I love you like a madman. You’re the air I breathe, my next heartbeat, and I’m never letting go.

— Kate Meader

Flynn was kissing her again, not to help her forget but to force her to remember. Everything he had meant to her then. Everything he meant to her now. How he always had been, and forever would be, her world.

— Kate Meader

Gripping her wrists, he pinned her tight to the vanity. “That sex as a weapon thing can only get you so far, Tess.”Want to bet? “I’m not damaged, cowboy. I don’t have hang-ups about my body, I don’t use sex to mask my problems”—much—“and right now, if you don’t touch me in some very hot, very wet places, I might die.

— Kate Meader

I could just as easily have taken the train.” He shut his eyes, just long enough for a movie of a Tess-induced train riot to screen on the backs of his eyelids. Fists flying, teeth broken, friendships destroyed as men vied to get closer to her lush body barely covered in that incendiary French maid outfit. And now he was turning hard again.

— Kate Meader

It didn't get much more patriotic than sex in a Chevy on the Fourth of July. God bless America.

— Kate Meader