“Ian held him tighter. Close enough to see the cluster of freckles spread over the bridge of his nose. The tiny beads of sweat gathered over his full upper lip. One bottom tooth’s crooked angle, standing out from a row of near symmetrical whiteness, for once, Ian wanting to observe and claim those minute details, wanting him in every conceivable way. His entire body burning turned inside and out, yet how to tell him what he meant to him. Not only something but everything.” RomancePassionLgbtAnne RussoDead Generations Author:Anne Russo