Usually my form of turning someone down was shoving a stake through his heart while smirking, Gotcha!

Kitten, you need to make a decision. Either we stay here and behave or we leave now and I promise you”—his voice dipped lower and the words fell against my lips—“if we leave, I won’t behave.

Think anything like that at her again, and I'll kill you here and now." Madigan's scoff was uneasy. "Any attack on me -" "Is the same as an attack on the United States itself," Bones finished, still in that deadly calm manner. "Heard you the first time - and didn't give a shite then, either.

"If you’d refrain from slamming my face any more into this dirty rock floor, I’ll do whatever you like," was his even reply. "Fancy letting my head go?" "Sure," I said with an unpleasant snicker, not relinquishing an ounce of pressure. "How about I let you floss with my jugular as well? I don’t think so."

Because, Cat, it’s the feminine persuasion that’s always the deadliest.

Bones leaned back, studying me. I felt so self-conscious. If only I had a shield of makeup, some perfectly arranged hair... and oh yeah. Some panties.

He’d wanted all of me and that’s what I’d given him. Did it mean I had nothing left? “No,” he muttered, voice thick with passion. “You have me, and I love you.