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If you’ve ever wondered if thigh tattoos are hot, the answer is yes. So. Fucking. Hot.
“Don’t go dying on me, Rosie. I’m not ready to let you go yet. We’ve only just met.”
“You know, Rosie. I wasn’t having the best day when I ran into you. Or rather, when my dog tackled you to the ground. Maybe he knew what he was doing, though. Because my day got a hundred times better after you fell into it.”
“Because I gotta tell ya, Rosie, the thoughts I’ve been having would get just a friend into an awful lot of trouble.”
ADAM’S ROAD TO HOPE: ONE MAN’S JOURNEY TO PUSSY PALACE
“Hidden…identity…” She underlines it three times. “I love this trope.”
“I can’t wait to unravel you.”
And he has that…” I gesture toward my crotch. “That stupid V that points right to his…his…” “Anaconda?” “Magic stick?” “Dickmatizer?” “Hospitalizer?” I wave away their words. “Yeah. That.”
This is it. I’m looking destruction right in the face. Obliteration. Total annihilation. That’s the only thing that can possibly come from a dick that big. No woman is surviving a dicking from this man, not without being wheeled out afterward, and possibly in a dick-induced coma.
“I’d kiss every fucking inch of this body, worship it all, make it my only religion if you’d only let me.”
“You’re not my first choice, Rosie. You’re the only goddamn option.”
“I’m weak for you—so fucking weak—but the bedroom is the last place you’ll see it.”
The door slams in my face, a force so heavy and brutal it knocks me back a step. But that’s not what brings the gasp ripping up my throat. It’s the sound of Adam’s fist connecting with flesh and bone. Once. Twice. Three times.
“And Rosie? If I find you in my kitchen in the middle of the night again, I’m fucking you right there on that counter.”
“I wasn’t motivated enough,” Cara says, skating in a wobbly circle around us. “Emmett was already obsessed with me. I showed him how I won the award for most tacos eaten in five minutes in university, and he dropped to his knees and begged me to marry him.”
