Kate Givans

“The kiss wasn’t just any kiss. No, it was a tricky little bastard, because it started out soft and gentle, but shifted gears in a matter of seconds. The moment her response went from surprise to surrender, the kiss turned hard and hungry, launching us into a frenzy of movement. Her arms were around my neck, my hands were moving all over her body, and somehow, in a span of about five seconds, she climbed up me like a tree, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist.

We spun and bumped into the counter. I reached behind my back with one hand to tighten the cross of her ankles. And then I had her sitting on the edge of the stovetop, my hands exploring the tops of her thighs. I pushed the ruffled skirt hem up and clasped on to her bare, silky skin. Her tongue dove to the back of my throat, sliding over mine like wet, slick velvet.

Holy mother fuck, I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning in this girl.”
― Rachael Wade, Declaration

“My guitar's name was Liz. As in, short for Elizabeth, Queen of England. She was a lady.

Don't judge.”
― Rachael Wade, Declaration

“She was falling apart beneath my hands, and I was falling apart beneath her. My power was her power, and together, we sent each other soaring.”
― Rachael Wade, Declaration

“She pursed her lips and nodded, swiveling around to continue her survey of my modest living space. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she strolled around. Letting out a long, deep breath, she dropped her hands to her sides when she reached my DVD collection.
“Downton Abbey?”
I jolted forward, clearing my throat. “Yeah, it’s uh…it’s a good show.”
― Rachael Wade, Declaration