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She tasted like sweet dreams and bad decisions. And I was already in too deep.
The only thing worse than a smart-ass woman was a smart-ass woman who was right.
From now on, nothing could separate me from her.
It figured I’d fall for a witch. My taste in women always ran toward the feral ones.
Seething, overprotective, and wanting desperately to pick me up and carry me outside over his shoulder to safety, but there.
“Well, shit. I might have to rethink my whole snark-and-bark attitude and start being nicer to you.” I rolled over, took her face in my hands, and smiled down into her eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare.” When I kissed her, she was laughing.
