Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)

by Emily Rath

She wants me to keep the briefs on? Done. At this point, she could ask me to wear a scuba mask and a cowboy hat, and I’d say yes.

“You want to bite my ass?” She nods, lust clouding her eyes. “Haven’t you ever been so drawn to a person you wanted to devour them? You want a piece of their essence. You want to mark them, claim them as your own.”

“You know I’m allergic to dogs.” “Which is why I gave you the hypoallergenic one,” she replies dismissively. “Dude, I told you, that’s not a dog,” says Morrow. “It looks like that thing that sits on Jabba the Hutt in Return of the Jedi.” I choke on a laugh. It totally does.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he says, his other hand brushing over my hair.

Life is short, and I feel like doing some more free-falling before it ends.

“You don’t have to fill the silence.” “The awkward silence,” I say under my breath. “Silence doesn’t have to be awkward. You Americans all think all silence must be an awkward silence. But two people can sit, not speaking, and simply enjoy each other’s company.”