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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Chewing tobacco is a disgusting habit—worse than smoking—but there’s something so inherently sexy about it. It makes no sense. Like, if you think too hard about it, it’ll gross you out, but seeing a rugged cowboy with dip in his lip and the outline of the can in his back pocket just does something for me.
Same though
“I wanna hear it. Wanna hear those pretty little lips utter that four-letter word for me.”
Do I say any of that? No, of course not. Why would I, when instead I can be a freaking masochist and whimper in place of a response.
Truly, I don’t know how he always gets me trapped between him and impenetrable areas.
It’s ironic as fuck that I get motion sickness in cars, given the fact that I’m tossed around on top of a bronc several months out of the year.
“Go out there and kick some rodeo ass, baby, and a repeat of last year will wait for you after.” Then he proceeded to slap my ass and tell me how juicy it looked between my chaps.
