Lisa > Books: fav-books-of-all-time‎ (88)

‘It was always the music that hurt me most. It did the most damage. For every single day of my life, I had a song to coincide with it. Some days were repeats. Some days I woke up to the lyrics circling my head. The lyrics sometimes set the tone for my day, and as a slave, I followed. But some songs were like a sharp fingernail poking into open-wounded thoughts. Because music is the heart’s greatest librarian.’

‘The lump in my throat refused to leave as I looked up at him over the top of the screen. Paige and Neil were still on the porch laughing when he closed the door behind him. Pulse skyrocketing, I stood as his hazel eyes seared into me, a question and an answer. It took three seconds to close the distance between us, two seconds to lock together like we’d been doing it our entire lives, and that last second . . . that last second when his lips devoured mine was the second I lost a piece of myself I could never get back. His kiss started deep and only delved further as I wrapped as much as I could of myself around him. Heart pounding and clit pulsing, he kissed me with pure abandon, our tongues dueling. I moaned into his mouth and he responded, clutching me tighter to him. He was hard, so incredibly hard as we devoured each other, gripping, grinding, fusing.’

“But you like me.”
He looked me over and shrugged as he stepped into a stream of hot water.
“So, what in the hell am I doing here?” I asked as he yanked me into the shower and pushed me under the water.
“Because I want to talk to you every day. I want to look at you every day. Because I can’t fucking wait to see what completely inappropriate T-shirt you wear to work next.”
“You like me a lot.” I grinned.
“Enough to risk a nut,”

“Nate, it’s not that I don’t want—”
“Shhhh,” he said as he ran his finger through my hair. “Anticipation, Stella, I’m game. I’ve already been waiting for months. What’s a few more? But we’re not stopping this.”
He linked our hands together. “Because I’ll be goddamned if I let you forget that I’m waiting. I want you to get used to these hands, these arms, this lap. We’ll be around a while. If it happens, it will happen naturally, and we’ll make our own story. If it doesn’t, I’ve got you with me now, and I’m good with that.”

“I was so worried,” I said against his chest. “Every single day I worried. Especially when you left.”
“I know,” he said regretfully, “and I’m sorry you went through that. Stella,” he said in a breathy whisper, “you thought you weren’t enough, but that was just it. You were enough to make me want to try to figure it out. You were enough to make me want to get better, feel better, and eventually want more. You saved every part of me. The parts I thought were empty, you filled up. The parts I thought were lost, you brought them back to me.”

‘In that moment, I realized that in the end, all the hurts and grudges and excuses are nothing more than floaty apparitions that scatter like pale ghosts in the face of all the people you loved, and all the people who loved you. Because in the end, my life boiled down to three kisses and three faces: my father, my nanny and her son…’

‘I wanted to pulverize every single memory I had of him. I wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting. I wanted him to sob the way I was sobbing. I wante—
Damian grabbed my hands and pinned them behind my back. His lips found mine and he latched on with a hunger that left me breathless. He was an ocean of want and need. All the raging, submerged currents that he’d kept at bay unleashed themselves on me. I tried to keep afloat, clutching at him, but I didn’t stand a chance. My hurt, my anger, my tears were tossed aside by something deeper, something vast and true and powerful and endless.
It was a kiss that had sneaked in through an open window, a kiss that lay folded in a paper giraffe, in the silences between 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, in the pits of mini mangoes and here, now, at last, it was set free. And the rightness of it, the feeling of longing and belonging, made me want to hold on to it forever. I wanted Damian to keep kissing me, keep kissing, keep kissing, until every other kiss had been erased, until this was the only kiss.’

“How do you know that?”
“Because you love me.” There. The words were out and I couldn’t take them back. Let him deny what I’d seen in his eyes, what I knew was the truth.
Damian tensed, as if holding something in check. I held my breath, waiting for the mask to slip back on. My heart was going to break to the murmur of the ocean and the night wind rustling through palm trees. The lump in my throat grew to the size of a giant coconut.
“It’s true,” he said. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I hated you.”
Oh God oh God oh God oh God.
“Loved? Past tense?” I was pushing it, but my heart took a perilous leap.
“Loved. Love. What does it matter?” He pulled me into the cradle of his arms. “Love don’t die.”

“You’re out of your mind.”
“Am I?” He swept one arm around the small of my back and pulled me in. “Tell me you haven’t missed me. Tell me you haven’t stayed up nights thinking of how good we are together. Because right at this moment, all I want to do is push you up against the wall and take you so hard that I can’t tell where I end and where you begin. I ache where you’re supposed to be, Skye, and I’m not going to stop until you’re mine. So we can draw this out or we can quit wasting more time. Either way, we’re going to end up right here. Me about to fuck you.”

“Come.” I held out my hand. “Home.” The only two words that managed to escape. I couldn’t fight it anymore. Loving Damian might destroy me, but not loving him was killing me.
I didn’t wait for an answer. I took his hand, turned off the light, and led him to the mansion.
“Wait,” he said at the door. “I don’t—”
“I love you, Damian. Always you. Only you. This is where you belong. With me and Sierra.”
“But you said—”
“I know. I said a lot of things. To you, to myself. Then I remembered what you said. ‘Love don’t die.’ It’s true, Damian. I have never stopped loving you, from the time I was a little girl up in that room. When I follow my heart, it always leads me back to you.”

‘We are sand and rock and water and sky, anchors on ships and sails in the wind. We are a journey to a destination that shifts every time we dream or fall or leap or weep. We are stars with flaws that still sparkle and shine. We will always strive, always want, always have more questions than answers, but there are moments like these, full of magic and contentment, when souls get a glimpse of the divine and quite simply, lose their breath.’

‘“So you’re not into lit fic, eh?”
He’s using cute Canadianisms. I’m getting all flushed below the waist and above the neck. “I’m good with literary. I’ve read Tolstoy and Austen and liked them, but Fielding’s a pretty vast change from straight up word porn.”
I get another laugh, and his fingers drift down the side of my neck. “He saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”
Oh God. He’s quoting Tolstoy and touching me. I’m done for.’

‘I realize I’m repeating the phrase I love your cock. The possibility I might accidentally leave out the cock part and profess actual love is too shameful to fathom. Obviously I don’t—love him, that is. I am developing a strong bond with his penis, however.’

“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to have a drink with me?”
“Because I like you. Because you’re fun. Because I want to get to know you better. Because I want you to see for yourself I’m not the kind of guy you think I am.”

“Is this you moving in with me?”
I nod, and his grin lights up my world.
“I love being here.”
“Yeah?” He’s still smiling as he pulls me in for a kiss.
“Of course.” His love is the best gift, filling my heart, giving breath to a future I can’t wait to start living. “My favorite thing in the world is here.”
“Me?”
“You.”

“You think I don’t love you?” he says as he steps away from the wall and draws up to his full height. His eyes are hard. “If I didn’t, do you think I’d be in hell right now? You think I like feeling like this? Like pushing you away isn’t ripping out parts of me? Fuck, Cassie, I know the right thing to do is to leave you alone. But when I think about doing that, it…” He grips his chest. “It fucking hurts. And I’m so sick of hurting. I thought you could make it better, but you only made it worse.” Everything he’s feeling is on his face. Every emotion. He can barely look me in the eyes, and it makes mine sting with tears. “You want me to say it? Yes, I love you. But you have no idea how many times I’ve wished I didn’t. No idea.”

He runs his fingers through his hair as his frustration peeks through. “I know it’s too soon, but I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t want it, because I do. I want to be your boyfriend. No, wait … boyfriend sounds so fucking lame. I’m nearly twenty-seven years old. I’m not a boy anymore. I want to be your man. Your lover. Your … damn it, I don’t know. Your Ethan. Whatever the fuck you want to call me, that’s what I want to be. My end game is to simply know that I’m yours and you’re mine, and that neither one of us is scared or ashamed of that. I want to take you out and put my arm around you and know that every other man in the room is jealous as hell that I’m the one who gets to take you home and paint your skin with my mouth.”

We hover there, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, and the rest of the world ceases to exist. Of course, I know outside of this room, the crew is working madly. In the street outside, traffic snarls and snakes through the city. People lope and scramble, love and rage, live and die. Oceans are rolling and babies are being born, and any number of prayers are being ignored or answered. But for Ethan and me, none of that exists.
None of it.
Our universe is the hush of air between his lips and my throat. The brush of his fingers on my neck.
“Do you feel this?” he whispers. “This is what makes us keep coming back, despite everything we’ve gone through. This is why I had to change, and why, despite how much I hurt you, you can’t walk away. The way we sink into each other. The way I can’t tell my heartbeat from yours. We have this perfect rhythm, whenever we’re together, and that’s the essence of us. It’s not about sex. It never was. It’s about this.”

‘He just stares at me, and the way his expression morphs into heavy-lidded lust sets all my insides ablaze.
That look has always brought me undone. Even when I hated him. It’s so full of primal magnetism, it’s no wonder I blocked it from my memory. A lot of men have desired me over the years, but not a single one has ever looked at me like that. Like he belonged to me just as much as I belonged to him. I realize now that we’ve always owned each other, even when we were apart.’

“Why exactly do you think this is kismet?”
His eyes crinkle up a little bit as he smiles yet again. And yet again, his grin is thoroughly amused. A real smile, not a fake one like I’m accustomed to around my house.
“It’s kismet because you seem like someone I might like to know. Is that odd?”
No, because I want to know you, too.
“Maybe,” I say instead. “Is it odd that I feel like I already know you somehow?”
Because I do. There’s something so familiar about his eyes, so dark, so bottomless. But then again, I have been dreaming about them for days.
Dare raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I have that kind of face.”
I choke back a snort. Not hardly.
He stares at me. “Regardless, kismet always prevails.”

“Calla, look at me.”
I stare pointedly at the walnut cabinets, trying not to let the hot tears spill, because as much as I’m trying to hold them in, the tears keep welling up.
One escapes, slipping down my cheek.
Dare pulls me around, then drops his hand, staring me in the eye. He’s so intent, so serious. He wipes my tear away with a thumb.
“You deserve to have a life, too,” he tells me, his voice even. “You can take care of Finn and still take care of you.”
I don’t deserve it.
“You don’t understand,” I start to say, then decide I’d sound crazy if I tried to explain.
“You can’t say that, because you don’t know me,” I say instead, my voice harsh and stilted.
Dare runs a hand through his hair and his eyes glint like obsidian. “I guess not.”

‘“Kiss me,” I whisper, looking hungrily unto his eyes. He blinks, then stares, his mouth tightening.
“I shouldn’t,” he answers, low and husky.
“Do it anyway,” I reply, hoping, praying, holding my breath.
Then he does.
He lowers his beautiful face and hips lips come down on mine, soft, firm, real. I sigh into his mouth, into the spearmint breath that absorbs my own, into the thing I’ve been wanting for weeks.
He feels so comfortable, so exciting, so natural to me. Kissing him is like taking a breath. It gives me life.’

‘Dare pauses. “No?”
I shake my head. “No. I just wanted…to feel something else.”
“Something other than?” Dare waits.
“What I’ve been feeling.” I clarify. “Craziness. Sadness. I just want to be someone else for a minute.”
Dare examines his picture, then sits back in his seat a minutes.
“Why would you want to be anyone else?” he asks softly. “Calla Price is amazing.”

‘“You make me feel guilty,” I tell him quietly, opening my eyes. He’s sprawled out, his legs propped up on a seat. He glances at me, his forehead furrowed.
“Why in the world is that, Calla-lily?”
The names make me smile.
“Because you make me forget that I’m sad,” I said simply.
Softness wavers in Dare’s eyes for a minute before they turn back into obsidian. “That shouldn’t make you feel guilty,” he tells me. “In fact, that makes me happy. I don’t like the idea of you being sad. Come sit by me.”
He opens his arms and I sit on the seat next to him, leaning against his hard chest and into his beating heart. His arms close around me and for the first time in my life, I’m lounging in a guy’s embrace. And not just any guy. Dare DuBray, who I’m guessing could have any girl he wants.
And right now, in this moment, he wants me.
It’s unfathomable.’

‘I laugh, a hysterical sound, like a deranged hyena.
I’m unhinged unhinged unhinged.
I’ve come unhinged.
“Aren’t you tired of talking me off the edge?” I demand. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you tired of balancing on these cliffs and being afraid that we’ll tumble over the edge? I know I am. This isn’t life, Calla. This isn’t living. Love is stronger than death, Cal and this isn’t living.”’

‘“It was you,” I tell him softly. “You’re the thing that brought me back. You gave me reality. You tethered me, anchored me, loved me. I thought you were going to break me, but that’s just because I didn’t understand. You were trying to help me all along.”
He pulled me to him and kisses me softly. “I love you, Calla.”
“I know.” And I do. For the first time in months. I can see it. And I believe it.’

‘At ten years old, Jared was my friend. At fourteen, my enemy; at eighteen, my love; and at twenty, my heartbreak. I’d known him more than half my life, and although the roles had changed, his impact was always all consuming.
Always.’

‘Tate was different.
I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the track, seeing her hop out of her car and talk with the other drivers. So confident. So strong.
But the way I wanted her was still the same.
Jax was right. I could go around about it for days or weeks or another two years, but I’d still come to the same conclusion as he did this afternoon. I loved Tate, and I would always love her.’

“I’m never letting you go again, Tate,” I whispered, almost desperate. “I’m your friend forever, and if that’s all I get, then that’s what I’m taking, because only when you’re here” – I took her hand and placed it on my heart – “do I feel like my life is worth a damn.”

‘“It’s easier to be angry and pass judgment than it is to take a chance. It feels stronger.”
I felt his chest inflate with a breath. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
I laid the side of my face on his back, hugging him close. “Nothing feels right without you. Not school or home,” I cried. “Everything is just giving me enough air to get to the next day without you. I never stopped being yours.”
He dropped his head back, letting out a sigh.
I swallowed, taking my chance. “I love you, Jared. I’ve always loved you, and I will always love you.”
There was no one but him, and even when he wasn’t around, he was. I would never be free of him – because I didn’t want to be.’

‘I ignored truth and reason, because it was easier to believe that my power defined me rather than admitting I needed anyone. Rather than admitting the reality.
That I loved Tate.
That she loved me.
And that together we were invincible.
It has taken me years to learn, but I’d spend the rest of my life making up for it.’

‘When he looks at me with eyes full of agony and saltwater, I feel like I’m drowning.
“No,” he says, and before I have time to think, or prepare, or run, he’s striding toward me, and his hands are on my face. His touch makes me gasp. As the air rushes into my lungs, he covers my mouth with his.
Everything explodes. My body and mind seize. Senses overload, and three years disappear in a blinding millisecond.
His lips are just as I remember. Warm and soft. Delicious beyond words. He inhales sharply, and his hands tighten, one on my cheek, the other at the back of my neck. He makes a small sound in his throat, and heats flood me. My body is against his, and my hands are in his hair, and every single reason I should stay away melts as our mouths open to each other.
It’s rough and desperate and full of passion I don’t want to feel. But this … this is where all the best memories of him live.
This is what we should have been. Always. Mouths and hands on each other, breathing each other’s air. Reveling in our soul-deep connection, not running from it.’

“I don’t want to screw this opportunity for you, Cassie. If you want me to quit, I’ll quit. But if you’re only doing it to avoid dealing with me, that’s not going to work, because I came back to New York for you. The show was just a bonus.”
“Ethan…”
“I know I’ve been an idiot in the past, but this? Being with you again? It’s all I’ve wanted for so long I can’t even comprehend it not working.”
“But it’s not working. That’s the problem.”
“It will. I’m going to prove I’ve changed. Then you’re going to fall back in love with me, and we’ll get the happy ending we should have had the first time around.”
All of the air leaves my lungs. “That’s your plan? God, Ethan! What the hell?”
“Don’t do that,” he says, his expression dead serious. “Don’t second-guess us before we’ve even tried.”
“I’m not second-guessing. I’m saying what you’re hoping for is impossible. Why would you have such unrealistic expectations about us? After all this time?”
He sighs, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer but still firm. “You keep your expectations low if that’s what you need to do to protect yourself, but don’t tell me to lower mine. It’s not going to happen. If they’re too high, the only person who’s going to get hurt is me.”

“But you know what kills me?” Frustration is sharp in his voice. “What slays me every day I come to rehearsals? Is that I can be there, in bed with you, kissing you and pretending to make love and … I still miss you. Because it isn’t real. And I want it to be. So fucking badly.”
I try to swallow and can’t. I want to look away, but it’s impossible.
A kaleidoscope of regret fills his eyes. “Cassie, I felt like a ghost while I was away from you. I was. Now, I want to feel real again.”

He stares at me with an expression of disbelief.
“Nothing about this scares you, does it?” he asks quietly.
I almost laugh. “Of course it does. It terrifies me. You terrify me. But not enough to make me think you won’t be worth it.”
His gaze is intense. “You think I’m worth it?”
I nod. “I have no doubt.”
He swallows. “That’s the sexiest goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to me.”