“Can I make you breakfast, honey?” Ransom asks, his voice as dark and sensual as it ever is. Even that simple question warms me up from the inside. Honey. That's a good term for him to use—because that's what his voice is like. Thick, warm honey. “I'd love some,” I say, realizing then that I'm starving. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. That, and doesn't it feel like emotional breakdowns just suck the life out of you? And then, of course, there's the sex. Fucking five men takes a lot of energy—especially when I can outlast all of them.
