I think this’ll definitely tide me over while we’re apart,”Bones laughed, dragging me into his arms with far more strength and quickness than was fair, considering I still had trouble making my limbs operate. “Oh, Kitten,” he murmured as his lips dragged down my throat. “You didn’t really think we were done, did you?

Isn’t he gorgeous?” With those rolls, the wet-sounding grunts, bulbous wiggly tail, and smashed face—not to mention the fart the dog let out once he situated himself—he was gorgeous in a way that only a parent could appreciate.

Movies. Drinks. Headless chickens. You know, girl stuff.

I'm attracted to a lot of hot guys. If Chris Hemsworth were here, I'd light him up like a firecracker with how fast I'd jump on him.

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.

Age had taught him patience. Youth had taught me to get frustrated at the lack of progress.

It was ironic; he held her captive, yet she’d captivated him.