Night of the Rogues: Bound In Darkness
“I tried a lot of other things. Poetry being one of them. The fact I’m even confessing that fact should tell you how much I want to make you smile.”
It worked. “Poetry? You? About what, me?”
“Of course you,” he growled gently, and my stomach, toes and spine all tingled and curled with the dizzy, burning sensation of being loved by a man like him. “Always you.”
“Can I hear a poem then?”
“Never,” he growled back, and I half laughed, half-yawned into his chest. Somehow, wrapped up in his arms, occasional gentle kisses landing on the top of my head, I dozed off.
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