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Ah, more granola, woo-woo, make-lemonade, salt-of-the-earth shit. Exactly what I’m in the mood for.
“Careful what you wish for, Gwen. I’ve got a laundry list of ways I’d like to watch you work for it, and none of them involve poker.”
“The thing is, Gwen, next time you want to watch me, you should just ask.”
“That he was a fool to let you get away. But that it was just as well because I could fuck you better.”
“Yes, what, Gwen? I’m going to need you to use your words. Because I’m about to snap and fuck you right here in this plane, but I need to know you want it first.”
“Are you feeling possessive after one time, Gwen? That’s adorable.”
“Yes. Because raccoons are the official animal of romance. Nothing says I’m into you like sharing rabies over a bowl of Doritos.”
Making Sebastian Rousseau—Mr. Always in Control—fall apart is my crowning achievement.
