“Listen, kiddo,” he said. “I’m a selfish prick, and I want to be the greatest fuck of your life and ruin you for every man who comes after me. But I’m not a mind reader, so I need some help.… — 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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“My flatmate’s away for the weekend. If you fancied meeting against every wall in the place.” — Cara McKenna Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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. Writing to you was the only time I got to get that stuff out of me. I just wrote down whatever needed to come out.” “I think you may be the most romantic man I’ve ever… — 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, as much as I care about what might go in.” I smacked his arm and he laughed. “I dunno,” he said, shrugging. “I like the way you fuck. You’re even more fun when I let you… — 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 as Rasul grasped him once again by the shoulder, thumb pressed uncomfortably close to his throat. Rasul blinked and stared past Jeremy’s face, seeming thoughtful for several seconds before speaking. His words were slow and cold.… — 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 Image
