Apologize," I ordered, striding in her direction once again. "What for?"Her gaze shifted, and she looked like she was about to throw a punch at me. "For not kissing me back when you clearly wanted to, you little liar. For fucking one of my best friends. For making that year the worst year of my life since I was nine. Apologize for not being mine when you should've been. Because Emilia, baby..." I tilted my head sideways. "It was always fucking us and you know it.

How could I not want to fuck this chick? Of course I was hard. She looked like a rainbow.

He brought color into my life. Acrylic? Oil? It didn't even matter. He always thought of himself as blackness, but the truth was, he injected so many different pigments into my existence.

Dickward had the kind of smirk that would make women moan his name even when he was in another continent. He was happily married to Emilia LeBlanc-Spencer and strictly off the market. Shame they rocked the happily-in-love vibe.

He was richer than God, married to one of the most beautiful women in our zip code and a doting father. He won the battle, the war and conquered every obstacle that had stood in his way. He had nothing to prove and reeked of contentment.

She knew —Emilia LeBlanc fucking knew— she could bring a man to his knees.

Both sisters were feisty, but while Emilia was sassy in a I'm-a-good-person-but-can-engage-in-fun-banter kind of way, Rosie was more from the I'll-stab-you-in-your-sleep-if-you-piss-me-off school.

Ask me what I want again,' I said softly, and she grinned, pressing her lips to my chest through my tee.'What do you want?''Nothing. I'm done wanting things. I have everything I need now. Ask me how I feel.''How do you feel?''In love.' I brethed hard, burying my face in her hair. 'I feel in love, and it's you that I love. So fucking much.