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“Turn the camera back on for this because I want you to rewatch it later when you’re in a straitjacket.”
I exhale heavily. This guy is as thick as a brick.
“The patient is about to get knocked back out. That’s what’s happening.”
Yes.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Remind me never to do cocaine with you,” I mutter dryly.
you. It’s lucky she isn’t dead with your snail pace. There was no urgency whatsoever.
“Where do you live?” I ask as we pull out into the traffic. She points out of the window. “Over there.” “Over where?” “Out. There,” she snaps as if exasperated.
“I know every name there is for a dick. Lizard, schlong, rhythm stick,”
“You’re like Clark fucking Kent.”
“Don’t bother with the lipstick; it will rub off on my dick,”
out. Great, just what I need to see—suit porn.
face. “Would you like to suck my dick before or after you eat your dinner, you filthy wench?”
it. I am utterly and irrevocably in love with him.
why?” “Well, you’re up, you’re down, furious, then quiet, you’re like a one-man fucking circus.”
Casanova Miles, goat-matchmaker extraordinaire.
It’s easy to forget who I’m with when he’s screaming at goats in his underpants.
“You think you’ve got fucking problems,” he whispers angrily as he points to his dick: it looks hard and angry. “Not exactly what I want to show my mother before breakfast, Kathryn.”
“I’ve got my own worries. I just showed my mother my hairy helmet.”