Kylie Scott

It is. I’m your boyfriend now, whichmeans there’s no room for your hipster admirer. He’ll just have to lick his wounds while we lick other things.

Stick your dick in’?” I asked, my brows probably touching. “Did you actually just say that?” “Make love. I meant make love … of course. I would never just stick my dick in you. I would make mad, passionate love to this sweet, sweet body of yours for days, no, weeks. It would be beautiful, pumpkin. There’d be little angels, and birdies, and you know … all just hanging around, watching. Perverts.

No wonder people took sex so seriously, or not seriously enough at all. Sex addled your wits and stole your body. It was like being lost and found all at once.

The opening notes of a song began, some plucking of guitar strings. I knew the melody. It was Maroon 5’s “She Will Be Loved. ” As pop songs went, it was pretty damn good, a bit of a favorite of mine.

That smile could move mountains. It could also break hearts.

I just want you to know, I will not be falling slave to your devil dick and demon tongue. No matter how good they are.

Nice enough?” he asked, tendons tightening in his neck like he intended to Hulk out on me. “Did you just call my kiss ‘nice enough’?.