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“My knuckles skimmed over the edges of the sun tattooed over his heart. That was the last thing I noticed before I kissed him. His jaw tensed in surprise for a moment; his hand gripped my arm hard enough to hurt. And then his body was flush against mine, pushing me back against the wall of the train. I was a desert girl. I thought I knew heat. I was wrong” — Alwyn Hamilton
My knuckles skimmed over the edges of the sun tattooed over his heart. That was the last thing I noticed before I kissed him.
His jaw tensed in surprise for a moment; his hand gripped my arm hard enough to hurt. And then his body was flush against mine, pushing me back against the wall of the train.
I was a desert girl. I thought I knew heat.
I was wrong