“She’s very beautiful,” he says, and then takes a drink of his bourbon. When he places it back on the side table, he leans into me, and with his lips dancing along my ear, says, “But she’s far too obedient for my liking, and like every other woman, her curves aren’t the ones I want in my hands. She doesn’t rub her wrist when she’s nervous. Her hair isn’t wild. She doesn’t have a freckle on her left cheek, just beside her nose that I love to look at. And her lips don’t tilt up along the right side when I talk.”
Damn Ace... Whipped. I love it
