‘I always talk my way out of tickets,’ Flick said, and his face relaxed, which was the closest he came to a smile. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘What are you smirking at?’ She dug her nails into his thigh. ‘Tell me.’ ‘A cop stops you,’ he said, as though explaining the most obvious thing in the world. ‘He gets out his vehicle and comes to your window.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘At that point, Kitten, before you’ve opened your mouth, that guy knows he’s not giving you a ticket.’ ‘How do you know that?’ Drawing his eyes around, he took an eyeful of her cleavage. ‘You’ve got great jugs.’ Flick looked down at her breasts
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