Lover at Last SPOILERS!
Before he could finish, Qhuinn was in front of him yet again, and
those blue and green eyes were burning.
“What,” Blay said.
“I owe you . . . everything.”
-Lover at Last, pg. XXXX
Reassuming his form in a woodland area south and west of the compound, Qhuinn steeled himself against making any inferences about what had detained the guy— although the fact of the matter was, the fighter had gone up to his room and hadn’t come back. And whereas most accidents happened in the home, it was a good guess that he hadn’t had a slip-and-fall.
Unless Saxton had been playing throw rug on the marble in their bathroom.
-Lover at Last, pg. 106
Leaning in, Assail dipped his chin and glared. “I am not upset. Yet.”
One of Benloise’s hands surreptiously dipped out of sight. A split
second later, Assail heard the door down at the other end of the room open.
Keeping his voice low, Assail said, “This was a courtesy to you. The next time I find anyone on my property, whether you sent them or not, I shall not be even half so polite.”
With that, he got to his feet and ground the lit cigar out upon the desk.
“I bid you a fond good evening,” he said, before walking away.
-Lover at Last, pg. 104
Qhuinn shifted his position, pivoting around, tilting his head back, sluicing the water through his dark hair, that incredible body arching.
He’d kept his PA.
And holy sh*t, he was aroused—
-Lover at Last, pg. 79
Communicating via hand signals, they split into two groups, with him and John taking one side of the mammoth double doors, and Rhage, Blay, and Z zeroing in on the smaller entrance.
Rhage went for the requisite handle while everyone braced for engagement. If there was a football team’s worth of lessers in there, it made sense to send the Brother in first, because he had the kind of backup nobody else did: His beast loved slayers, and not in a relationship sense.
Talk about your thin mints.
-Lover at Last, pg. 107
"I must needs go-"
At that moment, Elan's eyes went to the window across from him, and he saw the reflection of his killer in the glass.
-Lover at Last, pg. 404
Qhuinn went over to the door and leaned in, listening for Rhage’s voice, closing his eyes, waiting for the hall of statues to be clear.
Jesus, he could be a selfish prick sometimes; he really could—
"Qhuinn.”
His body turned on a dime, sure as if Blay’s voice was a ripcord that yanked him around. “Yeah?”
The male walked forward. When they were eye-to-eye,
Blay said, “I still want to f**k you.”
-Lover at Last, pg. XXX
Qhuinn froze.
On the other side of the blue mats, Blay was on the machine closest to the door, sittting as still as the weights he was not lifting.
The expression on his face was volcanic. But he wasn't mad.
No, he wasn't.
He had a hard-on big enough to see from across the room. Maybe across the state...
-Lover at Last, pg. 73
Layla opened her mouth to shout. Tried to reach for her savior. Strained against her body's still-glowing deadweight.
But there was naught else she could do.
The last thing that registered before she lost consciousness was her concern for the other female. And then all went dark.
-Lover at Last, pg. 316
“So be it,” Wrath murmured. “Eight’s a good number. A lucky number.”
That low growl of agreement rippled through the air once again, the sound one of complete and utter solidarity.
This was the future, Wrath thought as he smiled and bared his fangs. And it was right.
-Lover at Last, pg. 165
“Is this real?” he mumbled. John looked momentarily confuzzled. It had to be real, Qhuinn thought. Because the Honor Guard had come to him in the summer, and the air he was inhaling was cold.
Are you okay? John mouthed as he signed.
Shoving his hand into the snowy ground, Qhuinn pushed as hard as he could. When he didn’t budge more than an inch or two, he let that speak for itself . . . and passed the f**k out.
-Lover at Last, pg. 20
She was a hunter.
And the man in that house, whoever he was, was her prey.
-Lover at Last, pg. 68
"Your sex life is out of control. (...) You’re not behaving in a professional manner.”
“You eat your own food at Sal’s.”
“My linguine with clam sauce doesn’t require a restraining order
when I decide the next night I want the Fra Diavolo.”
-Lover at Last, pg. 84
“Zsadist! Zsaaaaaaaaaaaaadist!”
The scream carried all the way across the glowing blue lawn as, up
at the terrace, a lone figure shot out into the snow at a dead run.
Lots of people shouted back at Bella, but he doubted she heard a
thing.
“Zsaaaaaaaaaadist!”
As she skidded into range, Blay immediately reached for her- (...) (A)nd, oh, God, he was never going to forget the expression on her face— it was more horrific than any war atrocity he’d ever seen, as if she were being flayed alive, sure as her arms and legs were strapped down and pieces of her very flesh were being peeled from her body...
-Lover at Last, pg 152
God . . . his eyes . . . they were moonlight and shadow intertwined, an impossible color somewhere between silver and violet and navy pale blue.
“Just so you know . . ." he growled, "you will give yourself to me—”
“Excuse me—”
“But you will beg me for it, first.”
She jutted forward on her hips, her temper blowing all her let’s-be-reasonable right out of the water. “Over my dead body.”
“Sorry, not my to my taste.” He dropped his chin and stared at her from beneath lowered lids. “I prefer you hot . . . and XXX.”
-Lover at Last, pg. ???
In the silence that followed, violent anger hit Blay from out of
nowhere.
Now his hands shook for a different reason.
“So,” Saxton said hoarsely. “How was your night?”
“What the hell happened down there?”
Saxton loosened his tie. Unbuttoned his collar. Took yet another
deep breath. “Family tiff, as it were.”
“Bullsh*t.”
Saxton shifted exhausted eyes over. “Must we do this?”
“What happened—”
“I think you and Qhuinn need to talk. And once you do, I won’t have to worry about being jumped like a felon again.”
Blay frowned. “He and I have nothing to say to each other—”
“With all due respect, the ligature marks around my neck would
suggest otherwise.”
Lover at Last, pg. 188 of the galleys
The door to Blay's room opened wide without a knock, a hello, a hey-are-you-decent.
Qhuinn stood in between the jambs, breathing hard, like he’d run down the hall of statues.
Sh**, had Layla lost the pregnancy after all?
Those mismatched eyes searched around. “You by yourself?”
Why the hell would— Oh, Saxton. Right. “Yes—”
The male took three strides forward, reached up . . . and kissed the ever-loving crap out of Blay.
The kiss was the kind that you remembered all your life, the connection forged with such totality that everything from the feel of the body against your own, to the warm slid of another’s lips on yours, to the power as well as the control, was etched into your mind...
-Lover at Last, MS pg. 449
“Let me kiss you.” Qhuinn groaned as he leaned in. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please . . . it’s what you can do for me. Let me feel you. . . .”
Qhuinn’s mouth brushed his own. Came back for more. Lingered.
“I’ll beg for it.” More with the caress of those devastating lips. “If that’s what it takes. I don’t give a fuck, I’ll beg. . . .”
Somehow, that wasn’t going to be necessary.
-Lover at Last, MS pg. 318 (and yes, this is Blay's POV, and no, this isn't their first hook up in the book lol)
In the Old Language, she hissed, “If any harm shall befall him, I will come after you, and find you where you sleep. I do not care where you lay your head or who with, my vengeance shall rain upon you until you drown.”
That last word was drawn out, until its syllable was lost in more growling.
Dead silence.
Until Doc Jane said dryly, “Annnnd this is why they say the female of the species is more dangerous than the male.”
-Lover at Last, MS pg. 251
Straightening up so the full force of that cold blast hit him square in the face, Qhuinn glared into the rush, picturing those pines ahead that he couldn’t see because his eyes were watering from the wind. Opening his mouth, he screamed bloody murder, adding his voice to the maelstrom.
Godd*mn it, he wasn’t going down like a pussy. No ducking, no pathetic oh-please-God-no-saaaaaave-me. F**k that. He was going to meet death with his fangs bared and his body braced and his heart pounding not from fear, but from a whole boatload of . . .
“Blow me, Grim Reaper!”
-Lover at Last MS, pg. 148
Blay leaned in, his upper lip peeling back from his fangs. “Just so we’re clear, your cousin is giving me what I need. All day long. Every day. You and me?” He motioned back and forth between them with the cigarette. “We work together. That’s it. So I want you to do us both a favor before you think I ‘need’ to know something. Ask yourself, ‘If I were flipping burgers at McDonald’s, would I be telling the f**king fry guy this?’ If the answer is no, then shut the hell up.”
-Lover at Last, pg. 43
Excerpt from Lover At Last:
Qhuinn followed, bringing up the rear in case anyone decided to pull a hi-how’re-ya-
From out of thin air, Blay appeared, the male suited up in leather, and as heavily armed as the rest of them. Qhuinn’s feet slowed, then stopped in the snow, mostly because he didn’t want to trip and fall like an a**hole.
God, that was one grim motherf**ker, he thought as Blay started walking forward. Was there some trouble in paradise?
Even though there was no eye contact, Qhuinn felt compelled to say something. “What’s…”
He didn’t finish the “doing” part of the sentence. Why bother? The guy just stalked past him like he wasn’t there.
“I’m great,” Qhuinn muttered under his breath as he resumed trudging through the snow. “Doin’ awesome, thanks for asking- oh, you having probs with Saxton? Really? How’d you like to go out and get a drink and talk about it? Yeah? Perfect. I’ll be your after dinner mint-”
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