“No, seriously.” His accent seems to be a little thicker. “Why would I care about everyone in the universe being attracted to me? What would I get from that?” “The certainty that the sack of skin and meat you’re saddled with as you walk god’s green earth is pleasing to them, and that they will…I don’t know, have sex with you, if you want?” His palm shifts upward, gripping the side of my face, the hinge of my jaw. His thumb rests right below my lower lip. “Come on, Scarlett.” His mouth twitches. “You know who I want to have sex with.”
Daaaaaamn
