“Fuck, Hellion. You dressed so pretty for me tonight,” he growls in my ear, making all kinds of insane things happen just south of my waist. “The only person I dress for is me.” “Hellion,” he warns as his fingers find the switchblade that’s tucked into my garter. He pulls it free and holds the pink knife between us, flicking the blade out. “Huh,” he murmurs, twisting it around and taking it in. “For a second there I thought you had a piece of me strapped to your body all night.”
