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It was the voice of someone who didn’t lie in bed at night and wish he’d never been born.
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“Oh, trust me, Lieutenant Colchester, I always keep both eyes on a man directly underneath me. Both hands too.”
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He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “I’d rather it was the other way around.” And he stepped back, dropping his arm.
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Once or twice there had been the insinuation that I wasn’t able to “make up my mind” about who I liked to fuck, but that was ridiculous. I knew exactly who I liked to fuck, and it was everybody.
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“It means I’m the man right now, and you’re the woman. And since this is a waltz, pretend you have a ball gown and you just found out your husband is sleeping with the nanny.”
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“Mr. Vice President,” he says, his grin genuine and only a little bit teasing.
Oh yeaaaaa!!!! No fucking way he would have gone!!! The president is supposed to be on his honeymoon… WTF is the Vice President???
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“Abilene told Merlin and the Secret Service that her phone was stolen two nights ago,”
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Find a nice girl. Maybe a quiet blond who likes books. She’ll be much less trouble.”
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“Little princess. I’m going to undress you and wash you,” he explains, “and then you are going to sleep.” She doesn’t respond, merely turning her head to look away from him. He catches her chin, and when he speaks, his voice is as tender and deep as it was when he promised to love her in sickness and in health. “The answer is yes, sir.”
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“Because you think that I think you’re weak. Because right now, you’re afraid that you are weak. Because your pain belongs to me and no one else,
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“I haven’t taken my birth control since the day of the wedding. I just, in all the things that happened, I didn’t…”
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“Okay,” he said, and I could hear his heart closing up over the pain, the sound of it turning malignant in his blood. “I’ll take you any way I can have you.”
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“If you were the last person on earth, Abilene, then I would learn to love sheep instead. Get the fuck out of my house.”
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“You spiked my scotch bottle,” I realize, another part of my mind shoving the shame and guilt aside to tell me what I should have seen. “My door was unlocked when I got home.
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He lets out a long breath and then nods to himself. “As a Republican or a Democrat?”
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I don’t make him wait long. “You have a son, Ash. With Morgan. His name is Lyr, and he’s fourteen years old. He has green eyes and black hair and a pretty face—he should, shouldn’t he? Since he gets it from both sides, after all.”
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