The panther prowled around me in a loose, wide circle. Its mouth turned down, almost in a pout, and it seemed disappointed that I wasn't going to run away. Or scream, at the very least. Its tail, which was at least three feet long, twitched back and forth in what seemed to be annoyance. Or maybe anticipation. I didn't know. I'd always been more of a dog person. I cleared my throat, and the panther stopped and flicked up one of its rounded ears. Listening. "Um, nice kitty?

Well, what did you have for lunch?” I snapped. “Surely that’s not top secret superhero information.” “Steak with mashed potatoes and a side salad,” Striker replied. “And a piece of chocolate cheesecake for dessert.” I gave up on conversation after that. I was too jealous of the cheesecake to continue.

All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.

You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.

Have I ever told you how scary it is that you think of heels in terms of their possible shiv potential?

Let him look," he whispered and kissed me again.

The two men eyed each other. Assessing strengths. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring dicks once again