“God, you are such a motherfucker, Saint Devereaux.” Apparently, this is only a revelation to the naked blonde standing in front of me, who’s still wiping my cum off her face. She knew exactly what this was, or what it wasn’t. It’s not my fault she didn’t listen when I told her. It’s simple. I don’t do sleepovers, I don’t kiss, I don’t cuddle. I’m not the guy who’s going to tell you everything you wanna hear, the one you take home to your parents or tell all your girlfriends about. I’m the guy who fucks you better than you’ve ever been fucked.
can these authors stop having their first openings of their books be the hero after he has had sex with the woman who isn't the heroine. I hate those beginnings. Its gross
