I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.

And when I kiss you, I swear I can taste the next sixty years of my life on your lips.

This doesn’t mean anything,” Haley whispers as she reaches up and pulls at the Velcro of my glove.
“Yes, it does.” I bring my arms to my sides and the instant the gloves fall to the floor, my hands latch on to that beautiful body. “Tell me, Haley. Please tell me it does because this means something to me.

I want the strings. I want the ball and fucking chain. I want to be so tied to you that you can’t ever slip away from me again.

Well, I am also pretty confident that I’ve got your number,” Jake told her, glancing at her again. Could eyes dance? Because his baby-blues appeared to be dancing. At minimum, they were annoyingly sparkly.

“Please,” Molly scoffed. “You don’t know anything about me.” She hoped.
~ "Finding a Husband" by Kristen Casey

…Jake caught the briefest glimpse of a demure set of pale pink lingerie, and then Molly was airborne—jumping feet-first into the deep end. She swam underwater like a mermaid, finally coming up for air near the center of the pool. Her hair was slicked back on her skull, shining and as dark as melted chocolate and Jake was frozen to the spot by
So. Much. Molly. All on display for him. God—she was really, really wet.
~"Finding a Husband" by Kristen Casey