You Don't Always Have To Kiss A

Love Is Blind,” Harriet Quipped. “but Not Illiterate,” Elizabeth Retorted.

He’d Spent His Life Being A Perfect Gentleman. He’d Never Been A Flirt. He’d Never Been A Rogue. He Hated Being The Center Of Attention, But By God, He Wanted To Be The Center Of Her Attention. He Wanted To Do The Wrong Thing, The Bad Thing. He Wanted To Pull Her Into His Arms And Carry Her To Her Bed. He Wanted To Peel Every Last Inch Of Her Clothing From Her Body, And Then He Wanted To Worship Her. He Wanted To Show Her All The Things He Wasn’t Sure He Knew How To Say.

It's Only Through Sheer Force And Luck That She's Yet To Take Over The World.

He Stepped Toward Her, And Her Heart Just Ached From It. His Face Was So Handsome, And So Dear, And So Perfectly Wonderfully Familiar. She Knew The Slope Of His Cheeks, And The Exact Shade Of His Eys, Brownish Near The Iris, Melting Into Green At The Edge. And His Mouth-she Knew That Mouth, The Look Of It, The Feel Of It. She Knew His Smile, And She Knew His Frown, And She Knew- She Knew Far To Much.

Society Is Capricious And Rewards The Bad As Often As The Good. But It Never Rewards The Quiet.