His fingertips slid down from my face, lightly stroking the line of my neck, down toward my shoulder. everywhere he touched, a trail of goose bumps appeared. how did he keep doing this to me? marcus—who made every girl in the world swoon—had zero effect on me. but one whisper of a touch from adrian completely undid me.
It’s true, and i was really hideous as a preteen. tall and gawky. i used to bump my head into everything. still do sometimes. (kat) you are my daughter. (acheron) sure i am, i can’t imagine you ever being uncoordinated. (kat) oh, i assure you i’ve nailed quite a few signs with my forehead. it’s a wonder ‘exit’ isn’t permanently imprinted right between my eyes. (acheron)
He laughed, and it raised goose-bumps on my arms. "oh,ma petite ,ma petite , you are precious." just what i wanted to hear. "so how are you getting here?" "my private jet." of course, he had a private jet. "when can you be here?" "i will be there as soon as i can, my impatient flower." "i prefer ma petite to flower.