dystopian-novel-science-fiction

Zane looks pensive, and then his lips twitch. __hey say most girls end up marrying a guy just like their dad.___h God _ That__ so lame,_ I say, spluttering as coffee dribbles down my chin. __ believe it__ a tried and tested theory,_ he says, standing up and wiping my chin with the back of his hand. I jolt at his touch.__ow it__ a theory? I thought it was a saying? Next you__l be telling me it__ a fact._ I flop back down on the couch.__mpirical evidence shows that sixty-eight percent of girls marry a guy who displays similar personality traits to her father ..._ His voice trails off as I shake my head. __hat?_ he asks, his palms open and raised.__ou really need to get out more. Where__ you glean that interesting nugget? The desperate men__ journal perhaps?

No offense, doll, but that__ not something I__ willing to share. I__ prefer to live a long and happy life if it__ all the same to you.___ou can__ just throw out vague allegations and then say nothing else!___ee, that__ the good thing about being a fugitive like me. I can do what the hell I like, and I__ not answerable to anyone._ Stepping away from the bars, he stands with his legs stretched out wide. His stance matches his grin.__ure looks like that__ working out well for you,_ I say, piercing him with a scornful look.

Shunting closer, I snuggle into his chest, soaking up his fresh woodsy scent. His arms encircle me and pull me close. __ou always smell like home,_ I whisper under my breath. Smooth, soft fingers tilt my chin upward, and I__ startled when my face meets his. Tears glisten in his eyes as he looks at me adoringly. Pressing his forehead to mine, he kisses me sweetly, his lips making brisk tantalizing sweeps across my mouth.__y heart is your home,_ he whispers, his voice breathless. __t always will be.

Oh, oh. My heart starts that quivering, fluttering thing it does whenever he hints at his desire for me. Lacing his fingers through mine, he moves to close the gap between us. I know he__ only holding my hand, but it__ the manner in which his fingers curl around mine, and the way his eyes bore into me that makes it seem much more intimate.