“I haven’t felt this in forever, and it’s hard to just shut if off. Like you said, we don’t know each other. Only how we seem to make each other feel. But sometimes that feels like enough. So simple and… — Cara McKenna Copy Share Image
“Still. It’s not all red. I’m not a total whore. Just a partial one. Just a splash of whore.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“It was what she'd been doing in every aspect of her life lately, wanting to hole up in the backseat and not be asked… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“That gooey stuff inside a Boston crème donut. That’s what you smell like. Now I’ll get a hard-on every time I eat one.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“Show me,” I said softly, and stroked his hair. “Show me what it feels like, to be wanted by a man, the way you… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“My flatmate’s away for the weekend. If you fancied meeting against every wall in the place.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“Okay. We've got about twenty minutes before I get mean again.' She laughed, relieved the night was still young, 'What are you, some kind… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“My mouth could deny my interest in Kelly all day long, but my pussy didn’t lie. He felt like more than a single person.… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“It’s a sign of weakness to feel stuff, in prison. To care. To admit you’re lonely, or sad, or that you’re aching for somebody.… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“Whatever happened to you being Mr. Control, and me just keeping my pretty mouth shut?” “Guess I like what comes out of your mouth,… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“After a moment’s hesitation, he (Jeremy) asked, “Would you ever ask her to do this for you? Bring another woman in…” He stopped speaking… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“kitchenette, tidy but cast in a sickly glow by the fluorescent bulbs. Dennis looked about fifty, with gold-rimmed glasses and a professorial goatee, and… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“Whores wear read… Pink’s just red with some cream mixed in, you silly slut.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“Caring was all about surrender, in the end. The opposite of control. The difference between strangling someone and embracing them.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share
“That’s where I want to be,” he whispered. He stroked my clit with his slick fingers, then slipped back inside with a moan. “You… — Cara McKenna Copy Share
