“It’s exactly because of what you are,” he’d said. Dean hadn’t mean prostitute, although he’d deliberately allowed Rob to think so. What you are is beautiful. Warm. Unbearably precious. One night with you, and I’d do anything to keep you. Tear Carwick apart, stone by stone, with my bare hands.”

“It’s exactly because of what you are,” he’d said. Dean hadn’t mean prostitute, although he’d deliberately allowed Rob to think so. What you are is beautiful. Warm. Unbearably precious. One night with you, and I’d do anything to keep you. Tear Carwick apart, stone by stone, with my bare hands.”

— M.J. Pearson