He f**ks even better than he looks”, I settled on saying. Several heads turned. I didn’t care; I was pissed. “And that beautiful face is going to be clamped between my legs as soon as we get home, don’t you worry.

Denise clung to the feel of his hands as she pushed at her panic. It's okay. You're safe...and this has got to be the ugliest couch ever.

Can we move this along?" a bored voice stated. "I have places to be and people to shag." "Ian, I'm not going to hug you," I stated as I approached him. "I know you like this better." With that, I slapped him hard enough to rock his head to the side. When he'd straightened, he flashed me a wicked grin. "Finally, you give me what I want. Knew you loved me, Reaper.

He started to smile. “Are you waving the white flag?” “Not so fast. I’m saying we can take things slow. See if it blows up in our faces. I ’m not saying declare eternal love for each other while I fall back with my legs open.

Pardon me, but there’s someone on the phone who says they have a call for you.” There’s a call to tell me I have a call?” he asked with heavy skepticism.

But-but…” Timmie’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Why did you tell her I’m your boyfriend? Why doesn’t she know about your real one?” That was a good question. I cast around for an answer. Any answer. “He’s English!” I settled on desperately. “And Mom…Mom hates foreigners!

How could you be nervous about asking me to marry you, Bones? I'd die for you. Why wouldn't I want to live for you as well?