My fic boyfriend is a weekly segment inspired in "My book boyfriend" that was hosted by Missie at The Unread reader. Sadly, that meme stopped but I loved it enough to follow it here at The reader lines.
My fictional boyfriend of this week is the six feet and three inches of swoon-worthy hotness Cameron Hamilton from the book Wait for you by J. Lynn (A.K.A Jennifer L. Armentrout).
Let´s just say that this man is hot as hell and even though I'm not used to this kind of books, I loved it enough to add him to my Bookboyfriend pile! :)
Check him out!
My fictional boyfriend of this week is the six feet and three inches of swoon-worthy hotness Cameron Hamilton from the book Wait for you by J. Lynn (A.K.A Jennifer L. Armentrout).
Let´s just say that this man is hot as hell and even though I'm not used to this kind of books, I loved it enough to add him to my Bookboyfriend pile! :)
Check him out!
“I'm beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else."
"Maybe it is." He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. "And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it's been in your mouth, sweetheart.”
*****
“And this must be Avery?"
"Oh, God, no," Came said. "This is Candy, Mom."
His mother's eyes widened and a bit of color infused her cheeks. "Uh, I'm..."
"I'm Avery," I said, shooting Cam a look. "You had it right."
She spun around, smacking Cam across the arm. Hard, too. "Cameron! Oh my God. I thought..." She smacked him again and he laughed. "You're terrible.”
*****
“I’m confident enough in my masculinity and sexuality that I can say that Ryan Gosling is just dreamy in this movie.”
*****
“Fuck, Avery. You think I don't want you? There's not a single part of you that I don't want, you understand? I want to be on you and inside of you. I want you against the wall, on the couch, in your bed, in my bed, and every fucking place I can possibly think of, and trust me, I have a vast imagination when it comes to these kinds of things. Don't ever doubt that I want you. That is not what this is about.”
*****
And then he kissed me—kissed me like he’d had right before he’d left the night of our date. Kissed me like he was a man starving for oxygen and I was the only air he needed to breathe. The hand around my neck held me there, raised up on my elbows as his mouth devoured mine. And that was the only word I could use to accurately explained how he kissed me.
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