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“Friends?” I scoff. “Matt, I’ll be spending the next year of my life manifesting the shit out of you losing your testicles by an inmate you meet on your first day in jail after committing one of your felonies you seem to find joy in.”
“You’re terrible at giving oral, you couldn’t find my clit if it knocked you on the nose, and your penis is crooked, and not in a good way. It felt more like trying to wrangle a bent pencil in my vagina than getting pounded by a beefy salami.”
“Never would have seen you as a creamer kind of guy.” “Oh, I cream a lot,” I say as she takes a seat on an island chair right across from me. She sets her puzzles and T-shirts down and rolls her eyes. “You’re disgusting.” “Or honest?”
“Yes, your house is nice. You, on the other hand, just popped out of Satan’s asshole, and I’d rather not share a living space with a fiery anus. Thank you very much.”
“I’m anything but a prince. If you want to address me, you can address me as king . . . or daddy. Never prince.”
“But I was a celibate angel for many years. So many years that I sneezed once, and a dustball flew into my underwear.” Fucking Christ. “And do you know how humbling that is, Hayes? To find a dustball in your underwear?”
“If I gave myself the opportunity to give you what you wanted, what I want, I’d dismantle every thought you ever had of being with a man. I’d break you. Then I’d slowly worship every inch of your heavenly body until you realized that no other man will ever give you the unequivocal pleasure I’ll give you. There’d be no going back for you.” He wets his lips as he stares down at my mouth. “And despite desperately wanting to bury my dick so far between your legs, I won’t. I won’t fucking break you. Because, Hattie, it would fucking break me too.”
What are the odds? Just when you claim you can escape his music. It’s almost as if an author is fucking around with your life, pulling all the strings.
“Easy, I take your neediness to experience a well-executed orgasm by a real man, combine it with his mad sex appeal, and blamo, two days tops.” “Is that real math?”
Maggie: Where were you? Hattie: Above The Almond Store. Aubree came and knocked on the door. Ethel heard everything. Maggie: Oh my God! The old crotch probably had her spirit reawakened.
