Get past the hard-on, and you could feel him. I mean really feel him.
Isabelle Rowan, Ink.
“Leaning his forehead against Michael's, Dominic admitted, "I didn't dance then. I think I was waiting for you.”
“... Hoping like hell she was wrong about Dominic, and he was just a secretive man with a strange skin disorder.”
“So, basically, I have the impossible task of finding a non-smelly, drug-free virgin?”
“This is just a phase, right? This whole bloodlust thing?”
“You wouldnt have anything to eat back there, would you? Vampire maintenance is fucking hungry work.”
“We are also creatures of romance. Books love to portray us as the mysterious visitor in the night that you invite into your bedroom and then your bed.”
“Did you just mentally pistol whip that guy, with his own gun? Nice, Amber. I would have just killed him.”
“Getting up from the bed, Dominick approaches me at a slow predatory pace. Once again, I cannot move my feet.”
“Goddamn it, do it yourself. Youre five hundred years old and you cant use a telephone? Read the directions. What are you, an immortal idiot?”