By Joey W. Hill
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Extra info for Mirror of My Soul (Nature of Desire, Book Four)
He placed a hand on her shoulder, nudged her to the side. “The picture is still here. And it appears someone’s finger has touched the glass. ” “It’s a good photograph. And the cleaning service I use probably does that when they dust the frames. ” She shied away, skirted the bed and disappeared into her bathroom, closing the door. Tyler let her go with an effort, hoping that it being the second floor and her own house, she wouldn’t try to escape again. His gaze returned to the picture. Marguerite had taken care and time with the photograph, capturing the expression she’d wanted, the aspects of his body, his posture.
Her fingers were on it before she could stop herself. “Oh God, Tyler. I’m—” He laid his lips over hers, taking her words, her hitching breath into himself. When he raised his head, she had nothing, he had it all. “I’ll endure anything for you, angel. ” He curved that broad back over her, wrapped his arms around her body. Instead of fighting the touch, the intensity, her body recognized it as a safe harbor. Her fingers latched on to his forearm and her nails dug in, cutting as if she were holding on to a cliff edge.
Had wanted to touch each bruise and cut, every welt. Place her mouth over them like a mother wolf, feel his hands touch her, hold her, exchange comfort. What was she? Who was she? She sat down on the concrete block ledge of the roof of the Bank of Florida building, the tallest building in the city, a monolith that overlooked a panorama of glittering lights this late in the evening. Swung her legs over the edge so they dangled, braced her arms and stared down hundreds of feet to the street below.
Mirror of My Soul (Nature of Desire, Book Four) by Joey W. Hill