Ian grinned at her, trailing a pale hand down his chest. “Luscious, aren‟t I, poppet? Go on, stare. I don‟t mind.

There is no way I’m going out in public like this!” It seemed while I was being tormented at the salon, Bones had been out shopping. I didn’t ask where he got the money from, images of old folks with their necks bleeding and their wallets missing dancing in my head. There were boots, earrings, push-up bras, skirts, and something he swore to me were dresses but only looked like pieces of dresses.

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.

Playing with fire Kitten?

Careful, luv. I might be angry with you, but that doesn't mean I don't still want you. So if you do that again, I'll shag you right here, right now, and sod anyone who wants to watch

"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."