If I were to lock you up in a dungeon, I guarantee you would not be bored.

Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?

Rough palms cradled my face while my fingers gripped the pillow on either side of his. Lips, teeth, tongue, mingled together. I ate him up and didn’t let go until I had to come up for air.

The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.

The combination of razor-sharp wit (completely real) and his credentials (completely fake) had won them over in the end.

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

Our lives are not mapped, they are made.