Kat Singleton

I’d call anywhere home if it meant I was with her, because my home is no longer a physical place. My home is her.

“You’re my fiancée,” he growls. “The only bed you’ll be sleeping in is the one in my room.”

So the next time you find that you’re comparing yourself to other women, don’t. There’s never been anyone else. Just you.

Tell me, is it still me you draw in there, Violet?”

She snatches her hand from mine, the moment gone between us. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

It wouldn’t be so bad to pretend forever with him, but there’d always be the hope that it could be more.

Should I be jealous? You’ve been staring at your computer monitor with a smile on your face for thirty minutes now. Now you’re crossing your legs. What are you looking at, Violet?

Focus on me.

You can bring me to my knees any time you want, Margo. Matter of fact, I think I’ve been on them from the moment we met.”

“You’re my fiancée,” he growls. “The only bed you’ll be sleeping in is the one in my room.”

Margo Moretti.

The woman who has been the object of my desire for years.

Men. They really can do a number on you and not even give a shit that they did so.