The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.

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?

He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.

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.

Kiss me or let me go. I don’t care anymore.

I didn't know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I'd be happy with any of them.

You're mine," "Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.