T.L. Swan

History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it,” I say.

“Quoting Winston Churchill now, Mr. Miles?” she breathes.

Damn it, Emily, why do you always take the hard way? Why do you always fall for the wrong guy? The last man had no motivation, and this man has too much. Both men didn’t care enough to go the extra mile for me. Maybe my expectations are too high from my book boyfriends in my romance novels—maybe Jameson was right on that one. But damn it, I want the fucking fairy tale for once.

The elevator door opens, and I walk

I knew what I was missing. I knew my heart yearned for a man that I had never met.
I wanted him.
To melt when he looked at me.
To catch on fire when he touched me.

“I didn’t expect her to be such...”
“Such what?” he asks as the song changes and she starts to bounce around to the up tempo beat.
“Such a fucking smart ass.”

Hell.
Why does she have to be so damn hot?

She’s breathtaking. Her thick, honey blonde hair falls just around her shoulders. She’s curvy, soft, gentle, and I can practically hear her Australian accent like music to my ears.
The words from the canvas run through my mind: The object of my affection.
Don’t do this.
Walk away.

Then, suddenly, he turns and walks back to the cab rank, coming right up to me, and I stop breathing completely.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, all suction all domination, and I feel as though my feet are about to lift off the ground.
The other people all lined up in the cab line start to cheer at his bold move.
The earth stops and he kisses me again, gently sliding his tongue between my lips.
He pulls back and looks at me, then turns and walks away without saying a single word.

He steps forward, forcing me to step back until my back is up against the wall.
He towers over me and bends down to whisper in my ear. I feel his breath on my neck and the heat of his large body up against mine causes goose bumps to scatter up my arms.
“Oh, I still want it,” he whispers, His lips dust the edge of my lobe before he purposely blows into my ear as he speaks. “In more ways than one.” He licks his lips for effect and I get tingles all the way down to my stomach.

He smirks, knowing exactly what he is doing. “What has been the highlight of your stay so far?”
My eyebrows rise. “Saturday night ended pretty well,” I whisper.
A trace of a smirk crosses his face as his dark eyes hold mine. I start to feel the electricity fill the room.

“Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues.