Quote Tastic (31) That's Not Love

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My Candidate For The Week

“That’s not love,” he countered. “That’s something else, something possessive, something, Christ, I don’t know, greedy and twisted and obsessive and chaotic and . . . I want to own her, Alyssa. I want to wrap her up and keep her safe and put her in . . . in . . . some closet somewhere and take her out when it’s convenient for me to . . . to . . . Okay. Yes. Sex. It’s about sex and it’s about power and control and it’s about her looking at me with those Bambi eyes and adoring me when she should goddamn hate me, and . . . that’s not love.” 

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Cuffed to the door, with his pants unfastened and his hair messed, he looked like some kind of fantasy accessory. There was no doubt about it. These cars would sell like crazy if they came equipped with Sam Starrett handcuffed to the back. Damn, he was handsome with his hair cut short and his entire face showing. Some women might not agree because there was nothing pretty about this man. His good looks were rugged and he had a smile that was loaded with testosterone. He had the kind of big, lean, man-sized face that was going to get craggier as he got older. But he’d be just as handsome, possibly even more so, at seventy than he was right now. 

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And oh, that's when I jumped him. Such willpower I'd had up to that very moment and it all crumbled. I kissed him, and Lord Almighty, he kissed me and we were both crying. "This is going to be hard," he said. "This life we're choosing." "Maybe so," I said, kissing him again, "but I'd prefer hard and wonderful any day over easy and run of the mill."